


My Paladin Not Safe

by uncouth_peasant



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Lance (Voltron), Brief mention of an OC, Buckle up, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Do we know the mice genders???, First Fic!, Forgetting to eat, Gen, Gender Neutral Character, Guilt, Happy Ending, Here we go, Hostage Situations, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, I promise, Introspection, I’ll have to add to this knowing me, I’m just slow, Kuro is here, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance needs more credit here, Langst, Lets be honest they were adorable, No one is in any danger, Not beta’d we die like mne, Past Adam/Shiro - Freeform, Pirates, Possessive Tendencies, Post-Season/Series 02 AU, Shiro (Voltron) is a Mess, Shiro (Voltron)-centric, Shiro the friendly ghost, Someone teach a self-care seminar, Sort Of, Space Dad Shiro (Voltron), Space Mom Lance, Spirits, Stressful Situations, Swearing, Team as Family, That I made up for the sake of plot, They’re all a mess tbh, Thought Spirals, Updates are spotty, WIP, Welp theyre now also gender neutral because google is useless, Whump, Worry, Zarkon is a furry disaster, also Lance (Voltron)- centric, and there’s a lot of duress, but he’s OOC’d hardcore, but really casual, coming soon to a fic near you, first fic, it’s not Pidge sorry, kind of, narwhals, rated teen because people cuss under duress, self awareness, slow plot, tagging is lowkey fun, the team needs more sleep, you can read into whatever you want
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:01:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 63,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24227785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uncouth_peasant/pseuds/uncouth_peasant
Summary: In an AU where Shiro didn’t die after the battle with Zarkon.Why? Because I said so.Shiro instead wakes up on the Astral Plane. He’s fine, if a little traumatized.But the Black Lion won’t let him go back to his team. Something about a danger. A him.Basically I just wanted some good old angst of Shiro watching his team fall apart, some BAMF Lance, and Evil Clone shenanigannery.I’m sure I’ll get better at summaries roll with it :)
Relationships: Allura & Coran & Hunk & Keith & Lance & Pidge | Katie Holt & Shiro
Comments: 152
Kudos: 232





	1. Not Safe

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!  
> Welcome to the thunderdome.  
> So I have my AP exam in a class that I should not have taken because I Don’t Care (tm) in like two days.  
> Consider this my stress relief.  
> If this goes well I’ll probably post the other four or so chapters I’ve already written (it was going to be a one shot but NOPE plot happened) after the exam.
> 
> I’ll probably still post even if this is as trashy as I think it is.
> 
> Uhhh yeah. Enjoy.
> 
> OH!  
> Shockingly, I don’t own anything from Voltron. All I own is the cussing and the lack of grammar from our favorites space lions.  
> It’s also not beta’d any mistakes are my own- feel free to call me out.

Not for the first time, Shiro really missed being alive. 

Wait. Wait. That sounded morbid.

He was alive, in a sense. But it wasn’t the state of being he needed to be in. Sure, he could move, talk, think, whatever the hell else his heart desired.

Well, almost anything.

The last thing Shiro remembered was a bright light, then nothing. Silence. Nothing about it was familiar, yet he knew he was safe. There was a gentle humming in the back of his mind. A purr. He’d smiled gently, knowing that sound anywhere.

It hadn’t taken long from there to figure out where he was. Black had, in a desperate attempt to not lose a second paladin, forced Shiro into her Astral Plane. She’d noted, not without a hint of pride, that she’d managed to save his physical body too. Shiro didn’t bother asking how. He’d ask Pidge or Allura when he got out.

That plan hit the proverbial wall (the astral plane was an endless space of emptiness and haunting purple that was  _ just _ blue enough to not be… you know…) when Black admitted she couldn’t let him out.  **_Not safe_ ** , she’d growled.  **_Stay safe, then go back_ ** . 

Whatever the hell that meant.

God, Pidge would  _ so _ be on him for using language like this. She had a repertoire of words to impress a sailor that he tried to repress in her. She was fifteen for goodness’ sake! If he couldn’t save her innocence from the war, he’d damn well make sure that she kept what little modesty she still kept a hold of.

She didn’t always share the sentiment.

Just thinking of Pidge made him think of the team, and his heart clenched in worry. 

He’d promised himself he’d keep them safe. He was their leader; it was his job. What if something happened to them, something he could have  _ prevented _ , but he hadn’t been there?

It had only gotten worse from there. He set up camp in Black’s head, and found all the same supplies he was used to. He was able to speak with Black anywhere in the Astral Plane, but found it to be clearest when he was near her. The other lions would join the conversation every now and then, saying their greetings and apologies that he was stuck. They spoke fine, but had a fickle relationship with pronouns. Shiro was “Black Paladin”, Keith was “Red Paladin”, Lance was “Blue Paladin”, Hunk was “Yellow Paladin”, Pidge was “Green Paladin”, Allura “the Altean”, and Coran was “the Advisor”. “Lion” stood in for “you” or “I”. Otherwise the Lion’s referred to each other by their colors. 

Blue sounded especially bitter that Black was keeping Shiro hostage.

**_What does Lion mean, ‘not safe’?_** she snapped as Black defended herself yet again. Shiro quirked a theoretical eyebrow at his lion, agreeing with Blue.

**_My Paladin not safe._ **

Red joined the conversation there.  **_Not safe for all! Paladins need Black Paladin!_ ** she hissed. Shiro honestly didn’t know if actual lions did hiss. Maybe Hunk knew.

**_Paladins will be fine!_ ** Black asserted, her tone brokering no room for argument. Shiro felt the other lion’s anger through the mental link. Yellow entered then, voice gentle.

**_What about Voltron?_ ** Shiro’s eyes widened.  _ What about Voltron? _ They’d need a new black paladin if Black was adamant about keeping Shiro in here. A conversation flitted in Shiro’s ears. 

**_“_ ** _ I want you to lead” _

Keith. Black wanted Keith to take over instead. Had she lost her mind? Keith wasn’t ready! He was grieving, heck, the whole team was! Red caught on that her paladin was being discussed and gave a decisive ‘ **_Hell no_ ** ’ that Shiro seconded wholeheartedly. 

**_Red must_ ** Black implored. Shiro put his hands on his hips. “If it isn’t safe for me to be your pilot, how is it safe for Keith?”

Black didn’t answer. 

**_It isn’t_ ** **,** Green accused, understanding lighting her thoughts. 

**_Who is Black to decide their fates?_ ** Blue asked. Shiro could feel her hackles raise. 

**_Red Paladin will take over,_ ** Black finalized, and Shiro’s fists clenched at his sides. Of course Keith would do it. He was loyal and stubborn like that. And Shiro knew he’d be great.

But he also knew that Keith wouldn’t want to. Keith wouldn’t want to be a leader. “You can’t force him to do this,” Shiro said, noting that he sounded much more confident than he thought he was. “It’s not fair.”

The others echoed his sentiments. “Besides,” he said, leaning against the pilot’s seat he’d come to view as a second home, “who would pilot Red?”

**_Blue Paladin._ **

“Lance?!” Shiro yelped. The Blue Lion’s consciousness surged forward, nearly knocking Shiro over with the force of it.

**_NO!_ **

**_Lion won’t do it,_ ** Red snapped, supporting Blue.  **_Blue Paladin will never be my pilot._ ** Blue stiffened at that, her anger suddenly directed at the Red Lion. 

**_Why not? Has My Paladin not proven himself? Helped Red pilot through much?_ **

Red scoffed, her pride warring with her sense.  **_Blue Paladin is nowhere_ ** **near** **_My Paladin’s level. Too emotional. No control._ **

_ I thought Keith was the emotional one- wasn’t that the point of the Red Lion? _

**_Oh really?_ ** Blue drawled, and Shiro almost laughed at how much like Lance she sounded.  **_Who is one helping Red Paladin even now?_ ** Her attention turned to Shiro.  **_Red Paladin was Black Paladin right hand?_ **

“Yes he was.” Shiro didn’t miss the quiet purr of pleasure from Red.

**_Does Black Paladin not see similar thing happening?_ **

“Well, I don’t know. Usually those two fight a lot.” 

**_Don’t see at all, My Paladin,_ ** Black said gently. Red’s indignance flickered through the connection. 

Shiro gasped as the windows in front of him changed, and he could suddenly see the Black Lion’s hanger. “What is this?” he asked. 

**_Go and see_ ** . For a moment, Shiro thought she’d released him.  **_Then come back._ ** Nope. Nevermind. Shiro slammed a hand against the back of the pilot’s seat. “Why are you being so difficult?!”

No answer. Shiro sighed, taking a step out of Black’s cockpit. 

The feeling of home that hit him the moment he touched the floor of the hanger was almost enough to make him forget his frustration. “I hope you see how ridiculous you’re being!” Shiro called back, ignoring the huff of anger sent in his direction. Before he reached the entrance, he turned around, opening his arms in a “ _ see? _ ” gesture. “Look! It’s very safe!” he called before walking through the curiously open door.

Walking down the familiar halls, Shiro still wasn’t able to shake the feeling of  _ wrong _ . This wasn’t right. He shouldn’t be here in  _ spirit _ , he should be there for real! Keeping his team afloat! Being there for them! But no. He was playing house with an overgrown cat with a protection complex to rival Lance’s. 

Speaking of Lance… 

Now that Shiro thought about it, what Blue and Black were saying made sense. Barring the insanity of Black forcing Keith to be the leader, Lance was the only choice that made sense for the Red Lion. He was strong, dependable. He balanced Keith pretty well, actually. Where Keith was distant, Lance was emotional and immersive. 

It dawned on Shiro he’d never once told Lance any of that. None of them had. It’d never crossed his mind. 

When he made it to the Paladins, it was chaos. Frankly, Shiro didn’t catch much of what was going on, he was too caught up in what he was seeing.  _ His team.  _ Alive. Unharmed. Stressed, sure. But they were okay. Shiro let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. The lions huffed in indignance in the back of his head. He apologized for doubting them with the safety of his team.

After getting over the initial reaction, Shiro realized they were fighting. Arguing. Over what?

**_Over My Paladin,_ ** Black supplied. Shiro started. “Me? Why?”

**_Voltron needs a leader_ ** , Yellow explained. 

**_Voltron_ ** **has** **_a leader,_ ** Red snapped, and Shiro could feel the wrath echoed from Blue.  **_Black Paladin is Voltron leader! Black Paladin should be with Voltron!_ **

**  
** Shiro wouldn’t pretend to disagree.

“I don’t want to be the leader! That’s just what Shiro wanted!” Shiro froze, tuning in at Keith’s words.  _ Oh buddy… I’m so sorry. _

“What are you talking about?” Hunk’s words had Shiro regretting everything he had said to Keith on that planet. He wished he could take the words back. Take the responsibility. Pidge, glasses glinting, looked up at the boy (he was so young- they were  _ all _ so young-)

“Shiro wanted you to be his successor, didn’t he?”

Lance, surveying the situation, joined in. Something about his words seemed off. “Well  _ I  _ never heard Shiro say that, and how convenient that you’re bringing it up now, when Shiro’s gone.”

_ Lance what are you doing?  _

“You want the job so badly? You can have it!”

Shiro missed the rest of the conversation. In a blink he was back in Black’s hanger, though he wasn’t in the Astral plane yet. 

“What are you doing?” he yelled. “They need me in there! They’re falling apart!”

**_Not safe for My Paladin. Wait._ **

“For  _ what?! _ ” Shiro’s flesh hand ran through his hair in frustration. “What could possibly be worth  _ this _ ?!”

**_Wait._ **

“Blue? Red? Any thoughts?”

**_What did Black Paladin see?_ **

“They’re falling apart, Blue! They’re falling apart and there’s  _ nothing I can do _ !” Shiro stood in front of Black, waving his hands like a maniac. He didn’t bother checking his actions; wasn’t like the others could see him. “Are you all satisfied? Do you feel better knowing that you’ve put my team,  _ your paladins _ ,” Shiro spat the phrase, “through this?” There was a beat of silence.

Then:  **_Lions didn’t know it had gotten so bad,_ ** Black admitted.  **_Not until My Paladin went._ **

“...Can you guys not see what’s happening?”

**_My Paladin has shut Lion out,_ ** Red explained, sounding bitter.  **_Lion only knows what My Paladin wants to admit. Which is nothing_ ** .

Shiro would have laughed at the statement had the situation been more laughable. “That sounds like Keith.” 

**_Yellow and Green only get flashes from their paladins. Emotions, thoughts. Were also unaware._ ** Black seemed a little concerned, at least. It was better than the cold detachment Shiro had heard before.

“What about you, Blue?”

**_My Paladin is worried._ ** No surprise there.  **_Misses you, Black Paladin._ ** Shiro’s heart hurt at that, but he pushed it aside. That was to be solved later with a long overdue hug ( _ when was the last time their group had hugged _ ?). “Can you get anything else?” If anyone was going to share, it’d be Lance. Hunk was Shiro’s first thought for sharing, but he supposed the Yellow Paladin was self-aware enough to just talk it out with Lance, not bottle or repress it for his lion to access.

Blue thought for a moment, seemingly focusing.  **_My Paladin is blocking Lion. All Lion can see are apologies and concern._ **

“Oh.”

**_For the Red Paladin._ **

“ _ Oh. _ ” Before Shiro could question  _ that  _ further, voices flooded the hanger.  _ The Paladins _ . “What are they doing here?”

**_They’ve come to see Lion._ ** Before Shiro could snipe back “no shit”, it dawned on him what Black was saying. 

“They’re coming to be your Paladin.” The lion’s silence was all the confirmation Shiro needed. “Black, please. Don’t do this to them. Don’t do this to Keith.”

Again, all he got was silence. 

In the cockpit, Shiro watched with fond eyes as all the paladins sat in the seat, speaking to the Black Lion. He muffled a laugh at Hunk and Pidge’s antics. Through the connection to the lions, Shiro could feel that their hearts weren’t in it. They were just participating on principle. He kneeled in front of Allura, trying to get her to understand that she didn’t have to do this. She didn’t hear. Lance came in, muttering about “his moment”. All Shiro could feel, though, was fear. He wasn’t sure of what, though. Black and Blue didn’t seem to know either. When Lance left, Shiro caught a hint of absolute dread trailing behind. 

As with all the others, Shiro let out a breath of relief that Black didn’t activate. He knew she wouldn’t, but still. They shouldn’t even  _ be  _ in this war, let alone be leading it. 

Then Keith walked in. 

He sat down in the chair heavily, looking like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. And, Shiro thought guiltily, he supposed he did. 

“I know you wanted this for me, Shiro.” Keith said softly. Shiro placed a hand on Keith’s shoulder. It phased through, and Shiro flinched at the reminder that  _ he wasn’t there. _ “But I’m not you.” Well that hurt. “I can't lead them like you.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” Shiro said softly, knowing that Keith couldn’t hear him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Red agreed stiffly. “Black, come on-!” Shiro ended in choked gasp as the lion lit up, screens appearing with statistics and schematics.

“Please, no!” Keith whispered. 

“Black,  _ please _ !” Shiro begged. “Don’t make him do this!”

The lion didn’t respond. Shiro slammed a hand against the console to his left. Amazingly enough, he didn’t phase through. No sound was made, however, so there was no way to tell Keith that he wasn’t alone. “I’m sorry, Keith. I’m so sorry.” When he looked up, Keith had risen, walking out to meet the others. Shiro looked up. “We’re not done,” he hissed before following the boy.

Allura was trying to help as best she could, and Shiro felt his heart clench that he couldn’t do more. “I’m proud of you, Keith. I wish you were getting the job under better circumstances but congratulations.”

“Congratulations, Keith,” Pidge chimed in warmly.

“Yeah, ditto.” Keith didn’t react to their warm remarks, only looking up sternly, eyes flashing. 

“No. I don’t accept this.” The others gasped. Shiro glared at the lion behind him. “Yeah,” he said, “you shouldn’t have to.”

“You must. The Black Lion has chosen you.”

“I can’t replace Shiro! You guys were right: I’m the loner. I’m not the leader Shiro thought I was.”

Before Shiro could process the bombshell that was, Lance stepped forward. “Keith, no one can replace Shiro. But the Black Lion wouldn’t choose anybody it didn’t feel was worthy to lead Voltron. I respect its choice. And you should too.”

“Red,” Shiro called, “is this what Blue was talking about?”

**_Apparently._ **

“But who’s going to fly the red lion?”

Shiro grimaced. This should go over well.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tadaaaaaa  
> So I do have more written.  
> I’m probably going to post it regardless of your thoughts hahaha  
> I am, however, really only doing this to work on my inability to convey an idea in 1000 words or less.  
> Also my characterization consistency is an absolute mess, so any thoughts would be very much appreciated .  
> I get that I’m like two years late to this fandom but it’s fine. I like being here.  
> Also hey thanks for reading my very first published work!  
> *confetti*  
> I’ll be here again in like two days  
> Peasant out!


	2. No Longer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lions play switch-a-roo.  
> Shiro is very unamused  
> Tea is spilled on this “not safe” situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey I’m back!
> 
> Exams were terrible.
> 
> Ugh high school needs to go on break already this is really pointless.
> 
> No surprise there.
> 
> Enjoy!

“Blue!” Shiro yelled, “what are you _doing?_ Lance needs to go!” Shiro could hear Keith’s angry calls through the black lion as he called out to the Cuban.

**_My Paladin no longer._ **

“Don’t tell me you’re following Black now!” he begged. Now was _not_ the time! “Black, let me out. I need to see what’s happening.” ‘Out’ was relative. He was technically outside in the Astral Plane and was currently facing the black lion. He found it was less awkward when it felt like he was arguing with a ceiling or a console. This way, he had something to argue at.

**_No._ **

“ _Why?!_ What is your problem?! They’re in the middle of a battle and you’re choosing _now_ to be petty? Keith,” his voice caught, “Keith needs me.”

**_Red Paladin will be fine._ **

“How would you know that?” Shiro erupted. He felt the Red lion flinch back. _Good_ . “He’s not _your_ paladin anymore, _is he?!_ ” Grim satisfaction washed over him at the fear and shame resonating from the lion. “Black. Let me out. Let me _help_. _Please._ ”

**_No._ **

_“Why?_ ”

**_Not safe._ **

“Yeah. You’ve said that,” Shiro commented drily, crossing his arms and setting his stance. No way was he losing this argument again. “But how do we know it’s safe _in here_?” All shifting in the lion’s consciousness stilled. _Bingo_. He could hear Green huff a quiet laugh at his thinking. So she was on his side. “I’d think it would be certainly much safer for _everyone’s_ paladins if I was able to go back out the-”

**_Hush._ ** The command wasn’t given harshly, but Shiro still fell silent at the order with an audible click of his jaw. **_Blue. Know what to do_**.

**_Black,_ ** she said mournfully. **_Please. Don’t make Lion do this. Lion can take My Paladin now and join the battle and-_ **

**_Lion knows why. Lion must. Red as well_ ** _._ Red hot anger flared in the mental connection, tempered by a pang of deep sadness and shame.

“You’re making the switch, aren’t you?” The rolling sadness filling his mind was plenty answer. Distantly, Shiro could hear Lance pleading with the blue lion, echoes of his words coming through said lion to the others. “Oh, buddy,” he said softly.

**_Lion is so sorry, My Paladin,_ ** she said softly. **_But Lion has to do this. To keep My Paladin safe._ **

“Blue don’t do this to him! Blue! _Blue!”_ His pleas fell on deaf ears. He knew when the deed was done from Blue’s resignation and Red’s sudden surge. Yellow flared up again.

**_Sisters_ ** , she called urgently **_, is now really the time? The battle is not going well- Paladins need all Lions-_ **

**_Now is the perfect time,_ ** Black snapped, sounding hurried. **_Red, Blue, get your paladins and_ ** **go**. 

“Blue doesn’t _have_ a paladin, Black! Or had you forgotten what you just did to Lance?”

**_That is not the case here, My Paladin._ **

“Who then? The only others here are the mice, Coran, and…” Shiro trailed off, realization dawning. “Allura,” he whispered. “You’re going to bring Allura into this, aren’t you.” The lack of answer was all the confirmation he needed. 

**_Voltron needs five Paladins,_ ** Green reminded gently.

“You _have_ five paladins!” Shiro yelled, his temper reaching its limits. “I’m a paladin! _Your_ paladin, Black, like you keep saying!” 

**_On hiatus._ **

“On hia-!” Shiro spluttered. “What do you mean ‘ _on hiatus’_ ?! I’m. Right. Here,” he hissed. “I’m _fine_ , Black! You saved me from Zarkon, saved me from dying, and I’m thankful, really, I am.” The lion _hmphed_ noncommittally. Shiro pressed on. “But you know who else has saved me? _My team_. That same team is out there, alone, with who knows what else out there trying to kill them! I can’t keep them safe if I’m here! I need to be there for them like,” he paused for effect, hoping his lion was getting this, “like they were for me.” 

Silence.

Yellow quietly told him that that was an excellent speech and she was on his side here. Green echoed the sentiments. He grinned, quietly thanking the two.

“Well?” he prompted.

**_No._ **

“That’s all you’ve got?” he snarled. “My team is fighting for their lives and all you can say is ‘ _no’_?!”

He was ignored. **_Red, Blue, do you have your paladins?_ ** Black was met with dull agreement.

“Don’t do this. _Please_. Don’t make them fight like this now- it won’t go well!”

**_Enough!_ ** Black roared. **_My Paladin, trust Lion. Lion will keep you safe. Keep_ ** **Paladins** **_safe! But My Paladin can not go out there!_ **

“ _Why?!_ ” Shiro cried back. “Why can’t I help them?!”

**_Later. Not safe._ **

“Tell me!” Shiro watched in shock as the Lion’s consciousness left him alone on the Astral Plane. The black lion remained in front of him, though her eyes had dulled and gone out. He collapsed to the ground, hands fisting in his hair as he breathed fast and shallowly, trying to get a grip. 

Focus Shiro. Patience yields focus, right? 

Yeah right.

It didn’t yield him a _damn_ thing. He couldn’t _be_ patient here! His team was out there, fighting, without him! They needed him! He needed to be there! They- they needed him to protect them and he couldn’t protect them from this stupid place he had to get to them oh god what if he never got out what if _one of them got hurt and he wasn’t there to prevent it oh god oh god oh god oh god no no nonononono-_

_Dammit Shiro quit that._ Now was not the time. Mental crisis later. 

Patience. Yields. Focus.

Take stock. What do you know?

They had been fighting Zarkon. Shiro nearly died, but Black thrust him into the Astral Plane, physical form and all. He was unharmed. He was in the Astral plane alone. Black was adamant that he couldn’t leave the Astral Plane, but wouldn’t explain _why_. Shiro could see outside with Black’s assistance, but couldn’t interact with the others. The other lions could speak with him through Black, though they had all gone silent, presumably to deal with the battle. 

_The battle_.

The paladins had been called into battle without warning; Lance, Keith, and Allura had all switched lions. Now they were in combat with said different lions. 

Lions that they had no idea how to pilot. 

Right after they had lost Shiro.

_Oh god, this isn’t helping_.

Taking some grounding breaths, Shiro straightened his spine, crossing his legs on the ground in front of him to sit comfortably and rested his hands on his thighs. Pidge had collapsed into giggles the first time she’d seen him sitting like this in the common room (she wheezed something about ‘ _criss-cross applesauce_ ’) before running to grab Lance and Hunk. The two had both been lost in mirth as well before Lance ran to grab Keith. Hunk had managed to gasp something along the lines of ‘ _ohmygod he’s actually six’_ The teen had quirked a small smirk as he took in the scene in front of him. Then, casually, he asked if Shiro wanted a juice box, which had everyone -sans Shiro- _rolling_ with laughter. 

The afternoon had evolved into a fun game of Duck-Duck-Goose. Pidge had ended up breaking a toe running from Lance, and Lance had gotten a nosebleed trying to avoid tripping over Pidge when she broke said toe. He’d had a riveting interaction with the ground instead. Everyone had a smile on their face at the end, and random game days had become a common occurrence. They’d even gotten the Alteans and mice into it, taking turns playing games from both planets.

A pang of worry and loneliness rocketed through the (former) black paladin. The lions hadn’t returned to tell him how the mission was going. He walked over to the quiet ship in front of him. “I don’t know why you feel you need to do this,” he whispered, placing his flesh hand on the large paw. “But I wish you’d trust me.” Shockingly, no response was received. 

Since Black was standing, Shiro was stuck outside of his lion. The Astral Plane was a wide expanse of nothing. There was some variation with the ominous smoke gently moving across the ground, but that was about it. The paladin shifted his stance, looking left, then right, then back at the lion, musing. He looked left again. 

What if there was another way out of here other than through Black? He chewed his lip. If he wandered, he ran the risk of getting lost. But if he stuck with a direction and went with it, it should be fine, right? Worst case, the lions would return and chew him out and they’d have another lovely debate for freedom. Getting lost certainly wouldn’t help his case with being safe, but it might win some points for it not being safe _here_. 

Who knows? Maybe he’d find something useful. Wasn’t like he had much to lose. Shiro looked back at the lion. “You asked for it,” he muttered before squaring his shoulders and taking determined steps forward into the distance.

***

On the bright side, Shiro had found something. 

On the downside, it was not at all helpful. 

Remember that comment about “the proverbial wall”? 

Yeah. Guess what wasn’t proverbial anymore?

The Astral Plane itself _did_ stretch on forever. Shiro had been walking in the same direction for close to a half varga when he’d been met with… something. It wasn’t visible, nor was it moveable. It reminded him of the particle barriers the lions had when they were offline (‘ _Girl you’ve already activated my par-_ ” “ _Lance!”)._

_God, he missed his team._ He needed to see them. All this isolation wasn’t doing him any good. He looked through the barrier, realization dawning on him as he pressed his hand against it and rippling energy blazed harmlessly from where his hand rested.

It _was_ a particle barrier, albeit bigger than he was used to seeing. This one was more along the lines the castle ship had. Black had trapped him in her particle barrier like a child in a playpen. Shiro dropped his hand with an angry yell, activating his Galran arm and lunging forward. 

It was more therapeutic than productive. He needed to hit something. Attack something. Since he couldn’t go after Black, the wall would have to do. A small part of him hoped that he’d be able to break through.

Eventually, he fell back, resting his back against the wall and sliding down, shoulders aching and throat sore. Angry tears gathered in his eyes.

He didn’t bother blinking them back; who was going to see? There was no one to be strong for here. 

Shiro really wished there was, though. 

***

Shiro wasn’t sure how long he sat there, head resting in his arms. If he closed his eyes and focused, he could pretend he was on the ship in the still of the night. Almost. 

It was too quiet for that. No mice skittering in the dark. No footsteps of Pidge sleepwalking. No telltale sounds of Hunk trying out a new recipe because he “can’t sleep until I figure it out, Shiro! If I just switch out the-”. No Keith sneaking out of his room to train when he thinks everyone is asleep (Shiro needed to talk to him about that one). No Lance creeping out of his room, checking the castle to make sure everyone was planning on sleeping more than four hours, resolutely affirming that it _wasn’t_ another nightmare- “Honest! I just don’t want to deal with you guys and those ridiculous under-eye bags you’re all intent on gaining!” No whisper-yells of “what are you doing up?” “What are _you_ doing up?”

No castle systems running through their cycles.

No quiet snoring from Coran’s room. 

No impromptu snuggle parties being set up in the lounge.

Just Shiro. Just Shiro’s breathing. 

Just this endless emptiness.

Just… _nothing_. 

Shiro was working up the drive to stand once more, to be strong again, when a roar split the distance. In a blink, he was sitting in front of Black, her eyes once again lit up a bright yellow. He would have sagged in relief if he weren’t so cross with her in the first place. 

**_Paladin_ ** **,** she scolded. Shiro couldn’t be bothered to feel bad about the worry he felt drifting off of her in waves. This was on her.

“How’d the battle go? Is everyone alright?” _Please tell me they’re ok. Plea-_

**_Paladins are fine,_ ** Blue chirped. **_The Altean is doing quite well! It was a rocky start but-_ **

**_Lion, grudgingly_ ** **,** Red interrupted, **_must report that Blue Paladin is…good. Black Paladin made many errors today, but the Blue one…_ **

Shiro wasn’t bothered at no longer being the Black Paladin- _he wasn’t_.

**_See?_ ** Blue said smugly. **_My Paladin is more than worthy._ **

“So you’re all with Black now?” Shiro asked dejectedly. He’d been relying on the bad blood between them to help make his case to the black lion. A sense of unity thrummed in his mind, dashing his hopes. 

**_Not_ ** **all,** Green said gently. **_Sisters refuse to explain to Lion or Yellow. Lion can’t support what don’t understand_ **.

“Will you help me then?”

**_Green will do no such thing!_ ** Black intervened. **_My Paladin will not leave here until it is safe._ **

_“_ From _what_?!” 

Blue answered him softly, almost fearfully: **_Him._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we all know who this “Him” is. Also note how he gets his very own pronoun?
> 
> There’s more coming.
> 
> Comment your thoughts- is it terrible? Too campy? Too much soap opera?
> 
> I’m flying blind here.
> 
> See you next chapter!  
> Peasant out!


	3. How to Care for Your Paladin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team really needs to take better care of themselves.
> 
> Luckily, their Blue Paladin is well educated on the concept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to put this earlier, but if you recognize it, I don’t own it.
> 
> Also my only beta is Grammarly, so all mistakes are my own.
> 
> Enjoy!

The Castle of Lions was weird without Shiro. Lance couldn’t really put his finger on how to explain it other than that. It wasn’t like anything had really changed ( _except everything_ ). Allura and Coran still had way too much fun planning obscene training courses ( _but there was no encouraging voice in their ears, making every ache worth it_ ). Keith was still an emo loner ( _no one acknowledged when he came to breakfast red-eyed and on edge_ ), Pidge still worked herself to death ( _her search list kept growing why did this keep happening to her_ ). Hunk was still working in the kitchens, making better recipes with every meal served ( _each one was a variation of one he knew was a favorite of… of_ his). Coran still cleaned ( _if he spent longer than strictly necessary in one certain room, who was to judge?)._ Keith and Lance still fought like rivals ( _was it playful banter anymore? Or a life-line?)._ Lance still made dumb jokes, and everyone still gave the appropriate groans and chuckles ( _everyone heard the silence where a snort or a tired warning should have been_ ). The team still did bonding exercises ( _there were no more weekly games_ ). 

They were still a team ( _were they?_ ).

Lance sat down heavily on his bed, dragging his hand slowly down his face as he breathed out slowly. He’d been up since Too Quiznaking Early o’clock trying to coax Keith to quit training and “ _just go to bed, man, you look beyond dead-”._ Their new leader was running himself ragged, heck, they all were. Most (read: all) of his friends seemed preprogrammed to self destruct at the worst possible times. He hadn’t really thought about it ( _stupid stupid stupid_ ) until the previous evening.

Hunk had stopped eating. Lance was still boggled at that. He literally spent his entire day in the kitchens, cooking amazing food for all of them, and _forgot to eat_? Bull. Something bigger was at play there. Lance had cornered him last night after he’d burned himself for the third time in the span of ten minutes (guess who hadn’t been _sleeping_ either?!). After being waved off repeatedly, the Cuban was left with no choice but to go to extreme measures. So, with a glare that brokered no argument, Lance turned off all the active appliances, ignored Hunk’s protests of “ _the meringue_ -!” or something, and dragged the poor boy to the lounge. Once there, he grabbed the fluffiest blanket he could find (he and Hunk had cataloged them all the first week- the best ones were located in a hidden floor panel directly in front of the second comfiest couch in the common room), gently deposited the larger boy onto the comfiest couch (right next to the second comfiest), artfully draped the blanket around him like an elegant cloak, and, after giving him firm instructions to not move a muscle, left to get him some food goo.

At Hunk’s complaints of the bland food, Lance sternly told him this was his punishment for being an idiot with no sense of self-preservation or worth. Hunk had quieted then, eating his food goo in silence. Lance sat down next to his friend, leaning gently on Hunk’s shoulder, who melted at the contact. Had he really been so wrapped up in everything that he’d forgotten to hug Hunk? To make sure he knew he wasn’t alone? 

If _Hunk_ was this bad, how bad were the others? Of the team, Lance always considered Hunk the steadiest. He was the heart for a reason. The others… weren’t like that, to put it lightly. Usually, Shiro would be checking in, and all would be well. But… Shiro wasn’t there. No one was. Should Lance check in with them instead? Did he have the right? 

In the few ticks it took Hunk to finish his meal (imagine that- not eating for a few quintants makes for a hungry paladin), Lance had made his decision. 

With Hunk still burrito’d in the blanket, Lance hauled him to his feet and guided him to his room. He made Hunk promise to come find him if something was wrong ( _stupid question-_ everything’s _wrong_ ) or if he needed to talk, or if anything came up at all. Hunk agreed without hesitation, a small smile gracing his tired face. Something warm bloomed in Lance at the sight of his friend out like a light, sleeping peacefully for the first time in _Dios_ knows how long. A twinge of despair appeared at that thought, but Lance pushed it aside for the time being.

He had other idiots to put to sleep.

Uh. Bed. Bed sounds better. Other idiots to put to bed. There. He wasn’t attacking his friends- they weren’t being drugged. 

Well, he hoped he wouldn’t have to drug them. That could get really awkward really quickly.

***

Pidge, as mentioned earlier, was still intent on working herself to exhaustion. This wasn’t exactly a new development in castle life. However, in the past, Pidge at least had a modicum of self-awareness, and she’d eventually call it a night (or morning) so she’d be ready for training the next day. Usually, if she got too engrossed, Shiro would go in and get her. She listened to him. On days when Shiro was in a healing pod, or was otherwise indisposed (very extreme circumstances were needed for that one), Lance or Hunk would do it. It didn’t always work first try, and sometimes she required coaxing, but it always ended with everyone safe in their beds.

Tonight was different.

Lance wasn’t sure why he was surprised. Of _course_ it was different tonight; Shiro was _gone_. Not gone, _missing_. _Missing_ was a common theme in the Green Paladin’s life. She understood _missing_. _Missing_ could be fixed. Pidge was already devoting a lot of her time to finding her _missing_ father and brother, why wouldn’t she pour the rest of it into finding Shiro? Lance doubted it ever occurred to the teen to, _oh_ , say, _take a breath_. Maybe take a nap? Maybe ask Hunk or Coran for help?

Yeah. Judging from the bags underneath the girl’s eyes, it hadn’t crossed that genius little mind of hers. 

She shouldn’t be doing this alone ( _she shouldn’t be doing it at all)_. 

Lance took a deep breath before sprinting down the hall to get another blanket and food. There was a concerning lack of dirty dishes around Pidge’s workspace- usually, when she got into moods like this, everyone would refrain from removing dishes from her room so they could make sure she was still eating.

Apparently she was taking notes from Hunk this time around. With another blanket from the nice stash and a reasonable serving of food goo in hand (Lance also stuck a few water pouches in his left jacket pocket and an alien Capris Sun equivalent in his right in case he needed something more enticing to draw her out), Lance squared his shoulders and stepped into the Green Lion’s hanger, where Pidge’s workbench was. All the lights were out, the castle sensors reminding the occupants that it was technically night. Pidge was surrounded by holographic screens, typing like she had a gun to her forehead. The eye strain alone had to be killer- Lance was honestly surprised she hadn’t gone blind.

“Pidge?” he called out gently. No reaction. “Pidge, I think it’s tim-”

“Go _away_ , Lance. Can’t you see I’m doing important things here?” Ouch. Lance shook off the momentary hurt. Pidge was exhausted, and when she was exhausted, what little filter she had dissolved completely into a factory setting Lance and Hunk had fondly dubbed “Bitchy Pidgey”. Being gentle wasn’t going to work here, he realized. Gentle was Shiro’s thing. The only way Lance was going to get her to respond was to activate Bitchy Pidgey in full force. He smirked, mentally preparing himself. Several younger cousins and irritable sisters had prepared him more than enough for this moment. He sighed, breathing a quiet, “ _I’m so sorry, Pigeon_.” Then, he made his move.

“Hey, Pidge?” he asked again, setting the food down on a nearby cart and holding the blanket securely in front of him. 

“ _What_.” It wasn’t even a question. Lance considered his options, trying to calculate how close he was to getting through. Eh. Math had never really been his forte. He shrugged his shoulders with an idle “ _go big or go home, I guess_ ”. He walked over, standing obnoxiously close to Pidge as he leaned over her shoulder.

“Whatcha up to?”

“More important things than this conversation!” 

“Fair.” Lance pretended to think for a moment. “Is it going well?”

Pidge seemed to deflate for the slightest of moments (note: seemed does not mean did, apparently- go figure). “No,” she snapped, the snark never retreating. “Nothing I do is working but you being here is definitely not helping anything! You’re of no use here! Go away!”

“Hmmm,” Lance ignored her outburst, stepping back over to where Pidge’s laptop lay plugged into the wall. They were hoping to go to the Spacemall again to buy a part for repairs- it would only work when plugged into a wall charger. If it was unplugged, the computer completely shut down. Pidge, for the sake of space and speed, had plugged her charging computer into the wall, then taken a few cables from her workspace screen generators and connected it to her computer so that all the files there were easily accessible. With his limited technical knowledge, Lance supposed it was similar to taking an HDMI cable and plugging your computer into a TV so they share the same image. He stood, observing the system with a musing frown. He crossed his arms in front of him before turning back to the tired girl. “So does this stuff auto-save then?”

“What? Of course it doe-!”

“Good.” With a quick flourish, Lance unplugged the wall charger from the computer, folding and tucking the cord carefully into an interior jacket pocket (man he loved this thing). He picked up the laptop then, intending to put on the table for the time being. Pidge barely had time to process before he had her laptop closed and all the screens around her fizzle out. She blinked once. Twice. Then her pupils shrank to pinpricks as her face contorted in rage. 

“You _asshole_!” she screeched, rocketing out of her chair towards the Blue Paladin. “ _Put it back!_ I _need_ that! I’m trying to find _Shiro_ you dumb _shit_! I’m trying to _help him_! I have to save him! Are you so useless and dumb that you can’t _see_ when you aren’t _needed_? You’re _ruining everything_!” Lance dodged back several steps, taking note of how sluggish her movements were getting. He conjured up an easy grin. His plan was working.

“What? You mean this little trinket?” he held her laptop in front of him, the blanket draped over his shoulders like a mink fur. “You want,” he paused his retreat, staring at the laptop in comical awe, “ _this_?”

“ _Yes!_ Give it back you useless, talentless, stupid-”

“-What could you possibly need _this_ for?” Lance continued over the fuming teenager as he dodged her half-hearted attacks. He didn’t like doing this to her- she deserved better. She should be safely asleep, all her family around her to keep her warm and loved.

Instead, she was stuck with Lance.

He needed to keep her angry though, for just a little bit longer. If she stayed mad, then she’d keep coming at him and eventually tire herself enough that Sensible Pidge would return so she could eat and go to bed. Lance would probably go to Allura and have her give the others the morning off tomorrow. Goodness knows they needed it.

His goading worked better than he’d expected- Lance had been so caught up in the act that he didn’t see Pidge launch herself at him again. He fell back, elbow colliding with the ground painfully.

The laptop, thankfully, was cushioned safely in Lance’s arms, so no further harm came to it. He launched to his feet, running over to the table before Pidge could get up and give chase. 

“Hey hey, Pidge! Don’t break the laptop!” That seemed to make her pause for a moment, tired mind trying to process through the anger and exhaustion. 

Well, anger _induced_ exhaustion. 

“Give it back!” she yelled again, hands balled into fists at her sides. She ran at him again, and Lance, thinking quickly, placed the laptop on the table and retrieved the blanket from his shoulders. He held it out in front of him like a net and caught Pidge as she barreled into him like the angriest soccer ball _ever_.

A small rush of breath was pushed out of Lance as Pidge rammed into the blanket, knocking Lance on his butt. Quick as a blink, Lance bundled her in the blanket in a vaguely similar fashion as he did Hunk. The only difference here was that he also wrapped his arms and legs around the squirming burrito, holding her fast. 

“Let me go! I need to keep going! I need that computer!”

“Not until you tell me _why_.” Normally, Lance wouldn’t press. But he knew he should have come to talk to Pidge much sooner. She had a history of bottling emotions to the point that rarely did she ever express herself in any personal way but anger. 

Shiro’s disappearance had hit them all hard, but Lance knew that, unlike the others, Pidge wouldn’t even think of reaching out for help. If Lance could get to the bottom of the issue tonight, it might be enough to break her out of tired mode and keep the plan rolling. 

“Give it back you- you- you damn _cargo pilot_!”

“Aw, flattery will get you nowhere,” Lance chuckled, hugging her a little closer. Just like Hunk, Pidge melted at the contact. It was barely noticeable, unlike the Yellow Paladin, but it was there.

Almost there. 

“I have to keep working! I have- have to- I have-” Lance hugged her impossibly closer, feeling her writhing turn into wracking sobs. Bingo.

“Have to what?” he whispered, letting Pidge turn in his grip so her head was tucked against his chest. He rested his chin on her forehead, lightly rocking the two. “Oh _Pigeon_ ,” he breathed softly, feeling her small form shake.

“I have to _find them_ ,” she sobbed, shoulder tense. Lance rubbed soothing circles into her back, wishing he could do more. “I have to _get them home_. I’m _so_ sorry, Lance. I didn’t mean what I said! This is _my fault_ ; if I had done more, been better-”

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Lance cut her off, leaning her back so he was looking her in her eyes. “This is _not_ your fault. Did you snap your fingers and make Shiro dis-” his voice caught on the word- “disappear?” Pidge shook her head. “Did you make him lead us into that battle?” Another negatory response. “Did you make Zarkon the biggest furry catastrophe this side of Nleptus?” A wet giggle this time as Pidge shook her head. “Then I can’t see how this is your fault.”

“I should be able to find him.” Lance’s heart broke at the dejected whisper. Pidge ducked her head, perceiving his silence as agreement.

“Pidgey,” Lance said finally, wrapping the teen once again into a hug. This time she melted fully into the contact, trembling shoulders calming. “This isn’t on you. Heck, the _Black Lion_ can’t find him. I don’t know where Shiro is, nor do I know where your family is. But,” Lance reached a hand up, carefully trying to find the bowl of food goo he’d set on the table, “do you really think they’d want you killing yourself before you could save them?” Pidge shook her head silently. Lance continued: “I _know_ you’re going to find them. You’re the smartest person I know, Pidge, but this can’t keep happening. You need to take better care of yourself. We’re a team, yeah? We care about you _so much_ , and it’s not just because you’re smart, or can hack better than anyone in the universe; it’s because we love _you_. We love the smiling, sarcastic, quick, refreshingly real paladin that we can always rely on.” Lance could feel all tension still in her lithe form draining as he spoke. “Don’t be afraid to reach out and rely on us when you need it, okay? Come to Allura or Hunk or even _me_ for goodness’ sake! I guarantee even Keith would listen if you asked.”

“Oh really?” Pidge pulled back, an eyebrow raised.

“Point is,” Lance said with a grin, “you are not alone in this. We’ve got your back.”

This time, when Pidge launched herself at him, it was to wrap him in a hug also.

“How do you feel about food?”

“I’m not really hu-”

Lance fished in his pockets, grabbing the alien juice pouches. Pidge’s face lit up as she saw.

“You never said you had _juice_!”

***

After Pidge had finished eating everything Lance brought with a muttered “ _mother hen much?_ ”, it had been fairly easy to get Pidge to acknowledge how tired she was. Lance stood, leaving the bowl to come back for, and offered Pidge a hand up. She swayed the slightest bit when she did though, so Lance, with a sly grin, scooped her up bridal style, blanket and all. She squawked indignantly, squirming a bit as she wrapped her arms around his neck for balance.

“Lance-! I can walk!”

“Do you really want to walk _allll_ the way to your room?” Lance drawled, chuckling lightly at Pidge’s grudging resignation. “Besides- this is a once in a lifetime offer. You’re not getting a free ride ever again.”

That was a definite lie- everyone, Lance included, knew that he loved doing things like this.

Pidge pouted while she snuggled further into his chest, a small yawn overtaking her. Lance hadn’t been exaggerating the walk- Green’s hanger was ridiculously far away from the Paladin’s rooms. Lance figured it was because there were two separate wings- one male and one female. Allura had mentioned that the last Green Paladin was also female. Alfor had probably placed things so that she wouldn’t have too long a walk. Meanwhile, the male wing was completely across the castle from the female wing and ergo, the Green Lion Hanger. Allura had offered to switch Pidge to a new room when the news had come out, but all the Paladins liked being fairly close to one another in case of an emergency. Pidge was happy with her room- it was really close to Hunk and Lance, meaning she could join in on sleepovers whenever she wished.

By the time Lance had made it to Pidge’s room, the genius was pretty much down for the count.

He really needed to stop using action movie terms for domestic situations.

She stirred slightly in his grip as he crept into her room, blinking at the mess before him. It reminded him of home, in an odd way. Having a large family meant having a lot of clutter. Usually, it drove Lance nuts. But here in space? Lance had never missed the mess more.

Pidge let out a little mumble as Lance set her down on her bed, carefully maneuvering the teen burrito under her other blankets and making sure she was tucked in safely. She stirred, rolling onto her side. Lance carefully took the glasses she loved to wear and placed them safely on the table across the room in one of the spots not covered in gears or wires or other… Pidge stuff. A small, blue, furry, blob _thing_ peeked out at him from behind a pile and Lance had a silent heart attack before he saw what it was. It made a little chirping noise, floating across the room to rest in front of Pidge, nestled in between her legs and chest. It spun once before releasing a pleased purr and settling down fully. Pidge unconsciously curled tighter around the creature. A second creature, this one green, crept through the air (is that possible?), nudging Lance’s shoulder in a quiet _thanks_ before settling on Pidge’s hip with a content little exhale. Lance grinned softly, taking in the scene.

And if he dug his phone out and snapped a photo, who’s to say?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw yay we got to see the team!
> 
> Be ready for the rest of the crew next chapter!
> 
> Lemme know your thoughts- I’m really only doing this for the experience. I’m not really the author type.  
> Peasant out!  
> (Yes I’m doing that every chapter it’s *fine*)


	4. How to Care for Your Paladin pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance deals with the rest of his team.  
> Shiro wins an argument.  
> Kind of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does it look familiar?
> 
> Awesome. 
> 
> I don’t own it, then.
> 
> Yell at me if you notice any glaring errors- my English teacher will thank you :)

Allura was not hard to find. She’d been spending all her waking hours on the bridge, trying desperately to find Shiro, or the Galra, or  _ something _ . When the team was needed for missions or training she fulfilled her Blue Paladin duties well. But she didn’t disperse with the rest of the team, nor did she join them in any of the team building. No one questioned it, though, because they all saw the strain she had placed herself under. Lance knew Coran had begged the princess to let the others help, yet she’d refused.

The others, upon hearing this, had been appalled by the “lack of trust” she was showing. Lance had scoffed, earning a glare from Keith and Pidge. They didn’t get it, he realized. They didn’t understand that both Alteans had grown very attached to their human teammates. Allura had already lost her family, her kingdom, her entire quiznaking  _ planet _ for quiznak’s sake! And they didn’t think that losing one of her closest friends wouldn’t hurt her just as deeply, if not more so?

His team was precious, truly. 

Turning the corner to the bridge, Lance’s eyes lit up as he saw that he had been right. Allura stood at the controls, no doubt flying the ship to a new distress beacon. Lance opened his mouth to ask her about giving the others tomorrow off, but stopped as he took in the state of the Altean princess.

Her hair, normally shining and groomed, stood piled on her head in a messy bun. Tendrils floated around her face, sticking out and around in random directions. Her eyes were bruised-looking and dull, glazed over as she stared at the star map in front of her. Lance huffed, throwing his hands up in the air as he strolled in. Allura barely acknowledged him. 

“For _quiznak’s_ _sake_!” The Altean startled at that, a brief yell escaping her lips as she jumped. 

“Lance!” she snapped. “What could possibly have been your reasoning for that?”

Lance ignored her, stalking forward to where the computers were. “Has the entire castle developed an aversion to self-care?! Really? Is sleeping  _ that _ terribly difficult to understand?!”

Allura stilled, tilting her head in question. “What do you mean?”

“Well, Pidge, Hunk,” Lance listed, “I guarantee Keith as well,  _ you _ , Coran, no doubt-”

“Alteans don’t need nearly as much sleep as humans do,” Allura reminded him. He would have said it was patient, but it wasn’t. Whatever. Lance was on a roll tonight in the Ticking Off Women department.

“Yes,” he agreed, “but that implies that sleep _is_ needed, no?” He tried for innocent, though both he and Allura knew his inquiry was anything but.

“I- well, it’s not- Just-!”

“Nope. That’s it. I’ve had with you self-sacrificing idiots.” Lance glared at Allura, not breaking eye contact as he powered off the star maps and typed a command for the Castle to go on auto-pilot.

“Lance! What are you-”

“Nope. You don’t get to protest, Princess. You’re going to bed- actually, no. You’re going to come with me, get some food goo, and  _ then _ you’re going to bed-”

“I will do no such thing-!”

“-for at  _ least _ four vargas. Then you and everyone else are going to take tomorrow off. That means,” his stern expression cut off any additional protests; Allura settled for a petulant silence, arms crossed as he spoke, “no piloting, no training, no chores. I’ll talk to Coran next- make sure he knows as well.”

“Lance, we can’t  _ take a day off _ ,” Allura protested. “We’re the Paladins of Voltron! The Galra are out there and  _ Shiro _ ,” her voice cracked on the syllable, “Shiro needs us! The universe needs us!” She lowered herself to the floor, looking more lost than Lance had ever seen her.

Lance’s face softened as he walked over, settling down next to the princess. He opened an arm, and she gratefully leaned into the hug. “The universe has gotten along fine for over ten thousand years. It’ll be fine for another day. The team, however, might not be.”

“We’re fine-”

“Are we? Have you  _ looked _ at the others recently? Let alone yourself?” Lance shook his head. “We’re falling apart at the seams. I doubt any of you have taken five minutes for yourselves since the battle with Zarkon.” Allura’s faint blush was all the answer he needed.

“Well, I-” she tried to justify. Lance didn’t give her the chance.

“Allura you can’t  _ do  _ that to yourself! We still need you! Shiro needs us, yes, but he needs us  _ alive _ and  _ safe _ . You know how he worries, and that’s when he knows where we are! And now…” Lance trailed off, noting with vague panic how Allura’s expression had begun to crumble. He’d really rather not be two for two when it comes to making his favorite space ladies cry tonight. “Look, the point is, Shiro would never forgive me if I let you guys run yourselves into the ground looking for him! We’re a team,” he echoed his words to Pidge, “and that means we rely on each other. We’re going to find him,” he said softly, hugging Allura tighter to him, “but it might take time. We have to be ready for anything, and  _ that  _ means taking care of ourselves first before the universe.”

“But what if tomorrow-”

“I’ll take care of it,” Lance said gently, honestly having no idea what he just signed up for. But, if it meant his team started breaking this ridiculous cycle, he had no problem playing boss for a day. “Now,” he smiled, rising slowly and boosting Allura as he did so, “how does some food goo sound? And then sleep?”

***

Coran was a little harder to find. After a brief jog through the halls, Lance finally found the advisor in the MedBay, fiddling with something on one of the beds. Lance walked in, a cheery ‘hello’ dying on his lips as he realized that the Altean wasn’t  _ fiddling _ with something. _.. _

He was  _ bandaging _ . 

_ Himself. _

Lace paused for a fraction of a second before rushing in with a “Coran! What happened?!”

Coran startled, much like Allura, and turned with the expression of a child being caught with the candy jar.

“Ah! Uh- Number Three! What do you need? Are the others alright?”

“What? They’re fine. It’s you I’m worried about.” Lance’s breath caught as he spied the slight swelling and heavy bruising on the Altean’s forearm. The advisor had been trying to wrap it in gauze but was having issues with only one hand in commission. “What  _ happened _ ?” he asked again, ignoring Coran’s attempts to wave off the injury. He placed a hand above the Altean’s elbow, and the other on his wrist to inspect the injury, trying to see if it was broken or not. Honestly, he was more shocked that Coran had gotten hurt than at the sight of the injury. It looked very painful, sure. But Lance had never really considered if their resident aliens  _ could _ get hurt. They’d never had an issue with it in the past.

“Nothing happened- it’s quite alright-”

“Coran,” Lance interrupted, “don’t lie to me. This,” Lance moved Coran’s arm a bit in gesture, “isn’t ‘nothing’. What. Happened.”

“I,” Coran started, looking away, “I tripped.”

Lance blinked once. Twice. Thrice. “You tripped.” He didn’t phrase it as a question.

“Yes.”

“And then?” Lance prompted.

“Well, I reached out in an attempt to keep my balance, and my arm hit a tabletop before landing on the floor, taking the rest of my weight with it.” Lance took note of how weary the Altean looked. Like Allura, and Pidge, and Hunk, dark shadows circled his eyes, and there was a vague blankness to his expression.

“Coran,” Lance asked gently, grabbing a poultice from the cart near them and spreading it gently on the bruising. Coran’s wrist was only sprained, thank goodness. “When was the last time you slept and ate?”

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you,” Coran snipped.

“Oh really?” Lance made a meaningful glance at the arm he was now bandaging for the Altean. “When did you last sleep?” he asked again. Coran’s brow furrowed.

“It was right after Number Two made that lovely stew with those herbs from Zleghei-”

“Coran,” Lance interrupted, “that was nearly a movement ago.” Coran blinked slowly, processing. 

“Oh.”

“Yeah. ’ _ Oh _ ’.” Lance shook his head. “I swear, you’re all going to be the death of me.” After finally securing the bandages in place, Lance cleaned up the space quickly, turning back to Coran. “Have you at least been eating?”

“Yes. Number Two has been keeping the kitchen too well-stocked to not.”

“Yeah. One would think that,” Lance groused under his breath.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Lance reassured quickly. “I came here to tell you that I was ordering a full rest day tomorrow. Allura, Hunk, and Pidge are all in bed right now.”

“Are they alright?”

Lance grimaced. “They will be. They’d  _ better _ be.” He looked up, taking in the exhausted Altean in front of him. “And you will be too. I’m ordering you a rest day as well.”

“That hardly seems neces-”

“Don’t argue with me, Coran. After a minimum of four vargas sleep, you and the others are to spend the next quintant resting and restoring ‘self-care’ to your memory banks because  _ clearly _ ,” he leveled the advisor with a glare, “you’ve all forgotten.”

“We can’t just all take a quintant off-”

“ _ We _ won’t,” Lance confirmed. “I’m quite familiar with the idea of health and hygiene; I’ll take care of the castle should anything come up.”

“Well, I-”

“Go to  _ bed _ , Coran. I’ll come to you if something comes up.” A bold lie, they both knew. But still, Lance thought it was a nice idea.

“Are you su-”

“Don’t make me escort you there!” Lance threatened with a small chuckle. Coran deflated, looking more reassured than he had since Shiro… happened. He nodded once, and, with a kind “ _ goodnight” _ , the advisor left Lance alone in the medbay. 

Four down, one to go.

***

...Or not?

To Lance’s utter surprise and delight, Keith had actually gone to his room to sleep for the night. After doing a quick check of the rest of the castle, Lance made his way back to his room, satisfied that his team was safe for the night. 

He was out before his head hit the pillow.

***

“I hope you know how childish you’re being,” Shiro snapped after yet another failed argument. “This is stupid.”

**_Stupid is fine so long as Paladin safe._ **

“For the love of-!” Shiro’s temper flared yet again, “for the last time! Nothing. Is. Going. To. Happen!”

**_Hm,_ ** Black hummed disinterestedly. Shiro huffed angrily, walking in a circle around the lion to get a grip of himself. He stopped with a sigh in front of the Lion’s head, shoulders slumped dejectedly.

“You aren’t going to let me out anytime soon, are you?”

**_Trust Lion_ ** **,** she said softly, and Shiro was taken back by the sudden gentleness. 

“Can I at least see them? Check on them?” Pathetic? Probably. But Shiro was losing his mind. The other lions had grown quiet since their last chilling comment. Blue and Red would join in arguments occasionally, but other than that, they’d stayed out of the way. Shiro missed the conversation, no matter how aggravating. Talking to Black was like talking to a brick wall.

**_Let Paladin see, Black_ ** **,** Blue said quietly. Apparently, to save confusion between him and Keith, Shiro was now “Paladin”, while the others were now their updated colors. He wasn’t going to pretend he liked it.  **_Lion knows Paladin will feel better if Paladin does. This fighting is no good._ **

**_Lion just wants Paladin to see what My Paladin is doing,_ ** Red grumbled, though Shiro didn’t miss the faintest trace of pride in her words.

What was going on?

**_Of course Lion does,_ ** Blue purred.  **_Lion thinks it will do Black Paladin good._ **

“Are they okay?”

**_No,_ ** Green said, somewhat bitterly. 

**_But Paladins are getting there!_ ** Yellow jumped in quickly, sensing Shiro’s panic. 

**_Think about it like this, Paladin,_ ** Red explained wearily,  **_Paladin not doing well, and Paladin is informed. Other Paladins-_ **

“Have no idea,” Shiro whispered, finishing Red’s thought. “Oh  _ god _ .”

**_Black, if you don’t let Paladin out, Lion will do it for you,_ ** Green threatened, a familiar intensity to her words. Shiro smiled the slightest bit at the reminder of Pidge. He crossed his arms in front of him, a silent challenge in support of Green. 

Shiro could  _ feel _ when the head of Voltron gave in to his demands. He wasn’t ashamed to acknowledge the rush of relief that shot through him at the thought of checking in on his team. The other lions were adamant that nothing was wrong with the Paladins, that they were safe, but Shiro liked to be sure. He noted the faintest pride coming from both Blue  _ and _ Red, which still boggled him. What could have possibly happened to unite the two so quickly? He filed it away under “Things to Check Once I Know They’re Safe”, and stepped into Black’s cockpit. 

Like the last time, the windows were hit with a burst of strange energy before the familiar sight of the Black Lion’s hangar greeted Shiro once more. Something in his chest loosened minutely as he stepped out, at home once again. 

“Hey, Black?”

She rumbled an acknowledgment.

“This time,” he requested, “don’t drag me back. I’ll return,” he amended quickly, sensing her indignance and knowing that there was no point fighting it at that moment, “but I need to do this my way.”

**_Don’t worry, Paladin_ ** , Yellow called back, a slight chuckle to her words. **_Lions make sure Black plays nice._ **

Shiro thanked her silently before moving out of the room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so I got smart.
> 
> Kind of.
> 
> My chrome book isn’t able to access ao3 (but it can access ff.net go figure- my school is weird), so I have to do all of this on my phone.
> 
> Well, I type the stories on my chrome book. The rest of it has to be done here.
> 
> Thank goodness for Google Drive.
> 
> Anyways, I‘m terrible about typos when I type on a touch screen.
> 
> Sooooo I found a Bluetooth keyboard from a tablet that died when I was in middle school, and here we are.
> 
> it’s not as efficient as an actual computer (duh it’s a phone screen and a kindle-fire sized keyboard), but I feel tech savvy.
> 
> Leave a review of any issues.
> 
> I‘m not averse to a little :) if you don’t mind typing it.
> 
> Just saying.
> 
> We all need a little smilies right now.
> 
> Also I ordered this really stupid plush from that Wosh meme going around three months ago and it CAME IN TODAY IM EXCITED.
> 
> Up next, we jump back to see what Shiro finds with his team.
> 
> Basically I‘m weak and love people seeing Lance being wonderful without Lance knowing. 
> 
> It just builds up nicely for hugs when I get this stupid plot moving.
> 
> I have no idea when the next chapter is coming. Hopefully soon- school is almost done. My workload is slowly lessening.
> 
> Peasant out!


	5. Thank You for Traveling in Spirit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get to see what Shiro has gotten up to while Lance is doing his thing.
> 
> It’s just angst.
> 
> What else is new?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!
> 
> I love how I said I would need some time for this chapter.
> 
> Honestly I forgot I had this much written.
> 
> Whoops.
> 
> Basically, we get to see an outside perspective of Lance helping his friends out because I really love these tropes.

Shiro sped through the castle, desperate to see his team. Checking through the hallways, he passed their rooms. All of them were empty, except for one.

Shiro paused in confusion outside of his- _former,_ he amended with a mental glare at Black- room. He stared at it, seeing a light under the door, but not knowing how to get in. Could he interact with the castle? He reached to the keypad to his right, but his hands phased right through.

_Damn it_. Shiro’s shoulders slumped in defeat, leaning against the door as he tried to think of a solution. This whole “what Shiro could and couldn’t touch” game was getting really inconvenient.

Well, he _tried_ to lean against the door.

Turns out, Shiro could phase through the _walls themselves_ . Since when was _that_ a thing? He’d interacted with the walls before and had no problem! _Maybe it’s a door thing_.

Shiro could feel the lions’ mirth as he yelped in a very masculine way, falling to the floor. Grumbling his thoughts on the matter in kind, Shiro picked himself up. He was hit with a wave of _home_ as he looked around his room. He hadn’t seen it since the battle with Zarkon. A smile he hadn’t worn in movements shone on his face as he took in the familiar sight. 

What _wasn’t_ familiar, however, was the figure quietly curled up on Shiro’s bed. His eyes scrunched in confusion, the smile dropping.

_Focus, Shiro._

“Keith?” he whispered, catching sight of the telltale red jacket. The current Black Paladin sat with his knees to his chest, leaning against the wall as he wrapped his arms around himself. He looked exhausted, dark circles painting his eyes and his face haggard. A picture from Shiro’s garrison days lay on the bed in front of Keith’s feet. It had been taken the day Keith made the academy: Shiro’s face was split in the biggest smile next to Keith’s small, albeit proud, smirk. The younger Shiro had his arms wrapped around a younger Keith’s shoulders, nearly lifting him off that ground in his excitement. It had been a good day. The best day, actually. The picture looked so out of place right now. Shiro’s heart splintered at the sight of his basically adopted brother so distraught. “Oh, buddy…”

“I really miss you, Shiro.” Shiro started at the quiet whisper. Could Keith see him? Realization dawned on Shiro as he looked at the picture again, now clutched gently in Keith’s shaking hand. “The others… they miss you too. We’re falling apart- _I’m_ falling apart,” Keith said, laughing shakily even though there was nothing funny in his face. “I don’t know what to do. Allura and Lance say I’m doing a great job but… I’m not you. We can’t win this war without you. Pidge and Allura are killing themselves trying to find something, _anything_ to get you back. Hunk hasn’t left the kitchen since it happened. Lance… I don’t know what’s going on with him. I barely see Coran anymore. I don’t know what to do,” he whispered again, running a hand through his unkempt hair. “We can’t keep going like this. The team needs to sleep, or at least take a breath and get our bearings, but how can I ask them to do that when I can’t even myself?”

Tears filled Shiro’s eyes. He walked over to sit on the edge of the bed next to the boy (the bedsheets didn’t stir, he noted disdainfully. No way to show Keith he was there). Keith didn’t say anything else, just stared at the photo with hollow eyes. Shiro sighed, leaning back against the wall that, for some reason, held him up.

Not that he was complaining, he was just noting how fickle this whole “there in spirit” business really was.

“I can’t do this for much longer,” the teen murmured, one stray tear escaping. That seemed to snap him out of reverie, though, as his eyes hardened and he sat up. “Come on, Kogane,” he muttered to himself, standing abruptly.

Shiro looked on in worried surprise. “Keith,” he said softly, knowing full well that he wasn’t going to be heard, “I am so sorry. This isn’t fair of you at all- I shouldn’t have asked this of you. I know you can do this- I _know_ it.” Shiro looked away, “I just wish you didn’t have to.”

“Shiro needs you,” Keith said quietly, not hearing the older man’s words. “You’re the leader. It’s like Lance said: if you couldn’t do it, why would the Black Lion choose you?”

“Because she’s psychotic and petty,” Shiro grumbled. An indignant growl thrummed through his mind. He didn’t apologize. 

“Patience yields focus,” Keith said, sounding surer. “You just need to be strong until Shiro gets back. That’s your job. So do it.” 

“What exactly are you going to do?” Shiro questioned rhetorically. 

“What would Shiro do?” Shiro winced at that. That wasn’t the point of putting Keith in charge. “Well,” Keith answered himself, “The team needs sleep, right? So be the example. What else can I do? I can’t order them.”

“No, I doubt Pidge would take kindly to that,” Shiro chuckled. A small smile graced his features as he watched Keith leave the room, a determined set to his shoulders. Shiro got up and left the room, trusting Keith to do his thing. He doubted it worked, as the team was self-destructive like that, but he was glad one person was being sensible. Funny that it was Keith and not Hunk or Coran.

Shiro’s feet led him to the kitchen, where he could hear Lance and Hunk talking. It dawned on the paladin that he hadn’t had to eat or drink or… anything since this whole mess started. He didn’t even sleep, not really. He knew he could, but on the Astral Plane he didn’t need to. Guess this spirit thing had one bright side: no nightmares. This is, of course, ignoring all the downsides, which was literally everything else. 

Shiro expected to be comforted by the sight of Lance and Hunk casually talking and bonding in the kitchen. This, however, was not the case. Hunk was nursing what looked like a mild burn, and Lance looked almost angry. 

**_Not angry,_ ** Blue whispered. Shiro nearly had a heart attack from how bad she startled him. **_Conflicted_ ** **.**

“Conflicted?” 

**_Watch_ **.

“How many times is that now, Hunk?” Lance asked, eyes set with concern.

“Three,” the engineer responded absently, already going back to work. Lance’s eyebrows shot up in an unimpressed fashion. Shiro found himself mimicking the action. 

“So that’s three burns in ten minutes?”

“It’s fine Lance, really. Just a case of the clumsies,” Hunk tried, hoping to deter his friend. Shiro scoffed at the idea. Lance? Deterred? 

“No, _I_ get the clumsies. Not you. Don’t lie to me, Hunk,” Lance admonished, walking over and hopping up on the empty counter next to Hunk. “How much sleep have you gotten in the last movement?” Lance’s expression dropped at the lack of reply. “Ok,” he tried again, “better question: when’s the last time you _ate_?” 

Hunk looked away. Shiro’s eyebrows hit his hairline.

“ _Hunk_ ,” Lance admonished. “You’re literally in the kitchen whenever we have spare time!”

“I forget,” he said sheepishly. 

“Bull,” Lance said simply, and Shiro almost grinned at the familiar sass in his voice. He’d missed that. 

“Lance, it’s fine, really-”

“Nope. Nopenopenope,” Lance said briskly, hopping off the counter and pulling Hunk’s hands away from the food he was working on. “We aren’t doing this game, Hunk.” With a flourish, Lance turned off all the operating appliances, paying Hunk no mind as he attempted to save what looked like a meringue concoction. Lance blocked him easily, fixing Hunk with a look.

Shiro half expected the Yellow Paladin to fight back, but instead, his shoulders slumped in defeat. Lance’s shoulders also drooped as his expression softened. Hunk looked at the ground, face so drawn and sad that Shiro tried putting a hand on Hunk’s shoulder. As usual (since when was _this_ usual?), it passed right through. He scowled, wishing he could do more.

Luckily, Lance was there. 

“C’mon, buddy,” the Cuban said gently. He put his hands on the larger boy’s shoulders, gently steering the boy to the lounge- Shiro following, unseen, behind- and bundled the boy in a blanket. Shiro sat down next to Hunk after Lance left to go find food for his friend. The boy buried his face in his blanket clad hands. 

“God, Hunk. What were you _thinking_ ?” the boy asked himself. That seemed to be a theme today for Shiro’s team. “Not eating? What would Mom say? What would _Shiro_ say? You know better! The fact that _Lance_ had to catch you… we said we wouldn’t do that to him. Not to your _hermano_. And now of all times...”

“Oh Hunk,” Shiro breathed, silently begging Lance to come back. It wasn’t often Hunk broke down like this. Usually, he was able to talk the issue out. 

This one wasn’t the same case. Shiro ran a hand down his face, sighing deeply. “I’m so sorry, buddy,” he said lowly. “I’m going to come back I promise. I’m going to come back and make things right again. Just,” Shiro really wished Hunk could hear him, “just stay strong. I know it’s hard, but you can do this. I know you can.” Shiro stood up when Lance came in, not missing the familiar light in his blue eyes as he greeted his friend. There was worry in his gaze still, sure, but there was confidence now as well. It didn’t take a genius to see that Lance had a plan.

Shiro just hoped it was a good one. 

***

Shiro had left shortly after Hunk started eating, feeling reassured that Lance had it handled. He didn’t want to intrude on the two any more than he already had- it felt too personal, too deep. He knew the two were best friends, however, Shiro’s knowledge didn’t extend much past that. A small prick of guilt ate at him as he had to admit that.

What kind of leader doesn’t know basic facts about his team? 

Shiro forced that train of thought to go back into storage. He didn’t need any more angst in this mess _thank you very much._

Well, Hunk was taken care of, Keith too. 

Where should Shiro go next? 

_Allura_ , he decided, _and Coran_. He’d check on the Alteans, make sure nothing was amiss. Then he’d go see what Pidge was up to.

After wandering through the halls for a bit, Shiro finally saw Allura in the control room. She looked… awful.

Not that Allura wasn’t pretty, let’s be real here- it’s _Allura_ . But she looked like she had the weight of the cosmos on her shoulders, and Shiro’s heart ached at the realization that, in many ways, _she did_. Usually, she would confide in him or Coran and they could bear the load together, but from what Shiro could see, she’d taken all that responsibility on alone.

And, if Shiro was being brutally honest, she didn’t look like she could do it for much longer.

To the outside viewer, it likely wasn’t noticeable; there was still that proud set to her shoulders, the elegant arch of her spine, eyes sharp and determined. Shiro knew, however, that behind those sharp eyes was a million worries, a million pains. There was something desperate and glazed in her expression that would have been hard to pick up on if Shiro didn’t already know her. That straight back was drooping more and more the longer this went on. Her shoulders could only bear so much.

Shiro was about to go over and join her when a furious yell rang through the halls. Allura didn’t react. Shiro promised to come back- not that she’d notice- after he’d investigated.

The yelling, surprise surprise, was Pidge.

Maybe Shiro should have gone to her before Allura.

The young girl was _exhausted_ \- Shiro could see it in her slightly delayed, jerky movements and bruised eyes. Of course she wasn’t sleeping- no one else seemed to be.

“-can’t _see_ when you aren’t _needed_ ? You’re _ruining everything_!” Pidge spat at a retreating Lance, the latter wearing a lazy smile and clutching Pidge’s laptop to his chest. He also had a blanket around his shoulders, and Shiro spied a bowl of food goo on a nearby table

“What?” he called back. “You mean this little trinket? You want-” in proper Lance fashion, the paladin held the laptop in front of him, ogling it dramatically- “ _this_?”

Shiro could only stare on in horror as the scene progressed. A part of him- the part that promised he would protect Matt’s little sister- was instantly mad on Pidge’s behalf; Lance had no reason to taunt her unprovoked. But the rest of him, a thankfully larger half, noted the lack of dishes surrounding the hanger. It observed more closely the exhaustion in the angry teen’s being that he had noticed earlier. 

Pidge had a bad habit of immersing herself in her work during times of struggle. “Well,” Shiro thought aloud, “ _this_ is certainly a time of struggle.”

“ _Yes!_ Give it back you useless, talentless, stupid-”

Lance and Hunk had once come to Shiro, explaining that Pidge needed some time. Lance was sporting a black eye. Shiro had instantly gone on the offense, wanting to know what had happened. Was Lance ok? What happened to his eye? Did Pidge do that? Lance had looked at him calmly and simply explained that “It’s fine- Bitchy Pidgey has activated” before leaving with Hunk to be his taste-tester. Shiro had taken their word for it, though he’d never quite understood what it was.

Now he knew. _Damn_ that girl knew her verbal abuse.

He might need to talk to her about that.

“-What could you possibly need _this_ for?”

Usually, Shiro would come and get Pidge- the rest of the ship agreed that she was the least aggressive with him. 

As though the universe wanted to prove that point, Shiro turned just in time to see Lance smash into the ground, his elbow hitting the floor hard enough to make Shiro wince. Pidge scrambled to her feet as Lance recollected himself.

“Katie!” Shiro admonished, forgetting the whole “in spirit” business. 

Again.

Lance looked caught halfway between impressed and panicked. He quickly switched back to the blase attitude, though.

“Hey hey, Pidge!” he yelped, retreating backward quickly, “don’t break the laptop!” 

Shiro smirked at the thoughtfulness- Pidge would be a wreck if she realized she had broken her laptop. Lance clutched the laptop a little tighter in his arms as he raced around the table in the few seconds that Pidge froze, likely thinking over his words.

He only had seconds, though. 

“Give it back!” the girl roared, body tensing in preparation to charge again. Lance’s eyes lit up as a plan struck. He gently thrust the laptop onto the table he was dodging around, then grabbed the blanket around his shoulders to catch the angry teen.

Once again, Lance fell back, this time with Pidge clutched in his arms instead of her laptop. They both looked dazed for a half-second before Pidge jerked into action, flailing and squirming. Lance, faster than Shiro could follow, wrapped the tired Paladin in a neat little burrito. His legs and arms wrapped around her securely, gently, as she fought to get out. To do what, no one knew, not even Pidge.

“Let me go! I need to keep going! I need that computer!”

“Not until you tell me _why_.” 

“Give it back, you- you- you damn _cargo pilot_ !” Whenever Shiro got out of this mess, he was _so_ sitting the team down for a lesson in nice words.

And sleep.

Maybe he’d make a schedule for them.

“Aw, flattery will get you nowhere,” Lance chuckled, looking a little strained. 

Shiro could see Pidge breaking, and he knew Lance could, too. The only question now was when the dam would burst. Pidge thrashed around, though her struggles were getting significantly gentler. 

“I have to keep working! I have- have to- I have-” 

“Have to what?” Lance whispered, and Shiro’s heart melted at the tenderness. They all knew Lance had a big family, and he’d mentioned once or twice that he was a middle child. 

This was obviously not his first rodeo. 

Shiro almost laughed at the thought that he’d basically just witnessed a rodeo.

Lance, meanwhile, had shifted his hostage so that she could hide her face against his collarbone. Shiro walked over, sitting down (cross-legged, how else was he supposed to sit?) across from them. He could see Pidge trembling from here, and he wanted to sob at the sight.

Lance rested his chin on the top of her head, gently rocking back and forth. “Oh _Pigeon_ ,” he breathed softly, Shiro breathing out brokenly. This was too much. He needed to be with them, and he needed to be there _now, dammit_. White-hot anger stabbed through him again, and he directed it as much as he could toward the lions. 

“Do you see?” he roared, standing. Lance and Pidge remained on the ground, oblivious to the soap opera happening in front of them. “Do you see what you’ve _done_?!” He didn’t have to look hard to find the mess of shame, worry, and indignance pulsing in the back of his mind. They saw, all right. Shiro squatted down again, focusing on the two teens in front of him. Pidge was a sobbing mess, and Lance looked pretty close to it.

“I have to _find them_ ,” Katie sobbed as Lance rubbed soothing circles into her back. “I have to _get them home_ . I’m _so_ sorry, Lance. I didn’t mean what I said! This is _my fault_ ; if I had done more, been better-”

“This isn’t your fault!” Shiro cried. “You’ve done nothing wrong!” He slammed a fist against the ground, wishing more than anything that he could get her to understand.

Once again, Lance had his back. It wasn’t intentional, Shiro knew that Lance had no idea that Shiro was in spirit mode. But still, his heart swelled in gratitude towards the Blue paladin.

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Lance interrupted, making sure that Pidge was looking at him. “This is _not_ your fault. Did you snap your fingers and make Shiro dis-” his voice caught on the word- “disappear?” Pidge shook her head. “Did you make him lead us into that battle?” Another negatory response. “Did you make Zarkon the biggest furry catastrophe this side of Nleptus?” A wet giggle this time as Pidge shook her head. “Then I can’t see how this is your fault.”

“Listen to Lance, Katie,” Shiro begged. The girl merely shook her head again. 

“I should be able to find him.” _No no no-_

Lance took a moment, looking like he was physically pained by those words. Shiro knew he, for one, was. 

“Pidge,” Lance said finally, wrapping the teen once again into a hug. She leaned into it, letting out a broken sob. “This isn’t on you. Heck, the _Black Lion_ can’t find him.” Oh, if only he knew. “I don’t know where Shiro is, nor do I know where your family is. But,” Lance reached a hand up, carefully trying to find the bowl of food goo he’d set on the table, “do you really think they’d want you killing yourself before you could save them?” Pidge shook her head silently. Lance continued: “I _know_ you’re going to find them. You’re the smartest person I know, Pidge, but this can’t keep happening. You need to take better care of yourself. We’re a team, yeah? We care about you _so much_ , and it’s not just because you’re smart, or can hack better than anyone in the universe; it’s because we love _you_ . We love the smiling, sarcastic, quick, refreshingly real paladin that we can always rely on. Don’t be afraid to reach out and rely on us when you need it, okay? Come to Allura or Hunk or even _me_ for goodness’ sake! I guarantee even Keith would listen if you asked.”

“Oh really?” Pidge pulled back, an eyebrow raised.

“Point is,” Lance, grinning at the familiar sarcasm, “you are not alone in this. We’ve got your back.”

This time, when Pidge launched herself at him, it was to wrap him in a hug also.

Shiro’s eyes filled with gratitude for his team, for how far they’d come. 

The intense, deep worry he’d felt from the moment he first woke up on the Astral Plane began to recede. _They would be ok_. All Shiro had to do now was focus on getting back to them.

“How do you feel about food?” Lance asked. 

“I’m not really hu-”

Lance fished in his pockets, producing two juice pouches. Pidge’s face lit up as she saw.

“You never said you had _juice_!”

Shiro leaned back with a smile, trying to commit the sound of their laughter to memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?
> 
> Usually I find chapters like this redundant. I tried to make it a little more interesting in that Shiro didn’t just follow Lance around.
> 
> Did it work? I have no idea. 
> 
> Let me know!
> 
> I’d love to say I know when the next chapter is coming, but I also have no idea.
> 
> It’ll be a surprise!
> 
> For all of us!
> 
> Yay!
> 
> Also my English class is pretty much over for the year, so I’ll be able to maybe work more? 
> 
> Who knows!
> 
> Peasant out!


	6. I Spoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro gets a little more bonding time with the paladins.
> 
> Lance needs a nap after all this angst.
> 
> (He’s probably not going to get one)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!
> 
> I’m back!
> 
> So it just dawned on me that some of these subjects, and the characters’ reactions to them could be pretty heavy topics to have to mull over.
> 
> Also I have no idea if any of Shiro’s thoughts in the next chapter or so could be considered triggering.
> 
> I’ve never had a panic attack, and I don’t ever attempt writing them because I’d hate to get them wrong- it’s not fair to those that do suffer from them. I refuse to misrepresent it.
> 
> However. I did write a minor thought spiral because things get a little intense inside that lovely noggin’ of his, so if there’s a chance that could be considered an anxiety event of some sort, read with caution. 
> 
> Be safe. (Also let me know if it isn’t so I can make an eloquent attempt at an official warning)
> 
> Once again all my love to the amazing Grammarly for proofing this chapter.
> 
> They’re such a good friend. #blessed.
> 
> I don’t own anything fun in here. Go figure.

Shiro wanted to make sure that Pidge and Lance got to bed in one piece, but he doubted they’d have any issues once he saw Lance scoop up the younger girl, blanket and all, and troop down the hall. Plus, he could feel Black getting antsy, and he didn’t want to risk being pulled back without checking on Coran. 

Keith had said that he didn’t see Coran much these days. Shiro was beginning to understand why. 

It took some ridiculously in-depth searching through a comical amount of hidden doors before Shiro managed to find the Altean. The man was hanging upside down with his legs hooked into a ledge sticking out of the wall of what Shiro assumed to be a maintenance room.

To be honest he had no idea what he was looking at, aside from a (shockingly) tired Altean advisor working on a panel that no one could naturally reach.

“Coran, buddy,” Shiro asked the silence, “what are you doing?”

At that moment, the panel Coran was working sparked violently, and the advisor jerked hard enough to drop the tool he was using. He reached to catch it in a mad flail before it could hit the ground, but in doing so lost his hold of the ledge. Shiro yelled in alarm as he watched Coran follow the tool to the ground, all his weight landing on his left arm. 

Shiro winced at the thud of the orange-hair man hitting the ground, and ran forward to assist. Once again, it dawned on him that he  _ couldn’t help _ . 

He was about ready to start screaming.

The Altean picked himself up off the ground, straightening with a slight groan. Coran looked around, as though he was worried that someone might have seen his fall. Once he was satisfied no one was coming, he dusted himself off, straightened his spine, glared at his quickly swelling wrist with a baleful scoff, and trooped out of the maintenance room. 

Shiro followed, venting his exasperation to the Lions.

“He just broke his quiznaking  _ wrist _ and-”

**_Not broken_ ** , Green supplied helpfully. 

“Fine.” Shiro took a breath, pausing his steps, “Coran just fell from a very high ledge, injured his wrist, and none of you think my team is falling apart?”

**_Paladins are fine._ **

“Oh  _ really _ ?” Shiro shot back at the Black Lion. “Let’s think about what we know so far: none of my team is sleeping,” Shiro counted off on each finger as the list continued, “Keith is falling to pieces, Allura is isolating herself, Hunk has stopped eating, Pidge has been completely consumed by her search, and Coran nearly died! What exactly about that says ‘They’re fine’ to you?”

**_Paladins have My Paladin_ ** , Red answered. Shiro didn’t miss the smugness of her answer. He deflated, not having a comeback to that one.

“True,” he said softly. “They do have Lance.” Shiro looked around, suddenly realizing that he was alone in the corridor. “Where’d Coran go?” 

***

Shiro jogged through the halls, trying to catch up to Coran. Voices from down the hall distracted him briefly, and he changed directions to see what was going on. 

It was Allura and Lance. To Shiro’s delight, Allura looked better. Tired, sure, but it didn’t look like she had the weight of the cosmos on her shoulders. She looked more at peace than Shiro had seen her since before the battle with Zarkon. The knot in his chest loosened just a little bit more. Lance walked beside her down the hallway, happily making small talk as he escorted her, presumably, to her room. 

“Look, I get that it’s been, like, ten thousand years, but there is  _ no way _ that I will ever be able to picture  _ you _ doing that!” Lance laughed as Allura looked at him with a playfully high and mighty expression.

“Believe what you want, Lance,” she said precociously. “It will not change the fact that my father grounded me for phoebs!”

“He didn’t!”

“He did! I’ve never seen him so mad!” Allura giggled as Lance collapsed into laughter once again. They walked past Shiro, the latter having been so caught up in their interaction that he forgot to move before they  _ walked through him _ .

Shiro forgot to breathe as his chest froze, eyes widened comically and mouth open. It was  _ awful _ . It was like every warm feeling he’d gotten from seeing his team was stolen away and lost forever and ever. He staggered to the side, leaning against the wall and breathing heavily.  _ Oh god _ . Loss and terror and loneliness bore down on him from all sides and he felt his Galra arm power up reflexively. 

**_Paladin!_ ** Black called worriedly. She sounded just about as helpless as Shiro felt.

It was enough to shake Shiro out of it and compose himself once more. He waved off the lion mentally, straightening his shoulders once again. He could still hear Lance and Allura laughing as they trekked down the halls, presumably to Allura’s room, if Lance’s past team interactions had been any sort of pattern.

Shiro took a deep breath, letting it out slowly.  _ Get a grip, Takashi _ . 

Patience yields focus.

_ (What was the point of being patient if he was going to die here?) _

Patience.

_ (He was all alone) _

Yields.

_ (No one knew where he was) _

Focus.

( _ Oh god oh god oh godohgodohgod help please someone-) _

Breathe in, breathe out.

_ (What if they never found him?) _

No. Dammit, Shiro.

Get _.  _ A _ fucking.  _ Grip.

Was it the healthiest calm down? Probably not. But it worked. Shiro’s breath steadied, the cold clamping down on his chest dissipating pleasantly.   
  


With another breath, Shiro jogged down, following the happy voices. He caught up, following behind contentedly. The conversation banished away any remaining cold, and Shiro allowed himself to get lost in the jokes and banter. 

Lance seemed to be having the time of his life. He spoke animatedly and laughed freely and looked so  _ so _ proud whenever he could get Allura to laugh at his stories.

The pair looked lighter than Shiro had seen them in phoebs. They stopped near the entrance to the ladies’ wing, where Allura’s chambers were.

“ _ God, _ I missed you two,” Shiro said quietly, trying to commit the scene to memory, much like he had with Pidge and Lance earlier. 

“Allura,” Lance said, suddenly serious, “it’s going to be ok.” She paused at that, gratitude filling her shining gaze. A small smile adorned her lips, and Shiro looked away, feeling like he was intruding yet at the same time feeling  _ so proud _ of how far his team had come. 

“I hope so,” she said softly. She wrapped her arms around Lance, laying her forehead against his shoulder. “I really hope so.”

“Trust me. Voltron, better yet  _ Shiro _ ,” he leaned back, looking at her sternly, “will be fine. And  _ you _ will be fine after a maximum of four vargas sleep!” Lance called down the hall as Allura walked off with a laugh, waving a hand over her shoulder in a dismissal of his words. “And don’t forget that I’m ordering a team free day tomorrow! No working!”

“I would like to say that I don’t consent to this!” she called back.

“I’ll sic Coran on you if you don’t!” 

Both Shiro and Lance’s eyes widened at the reminder of the advisor.

“You need to find Coran,” Shiro noted, horrified he’d forgotten his task.

“I need to find Coran,” Lance also noted at the same time. He turned and ran down the halls, Shiro following close behind.

***

“Coran?” Lance called quietly, looking in on the bridge. Shiro stood behind him, arms crossed. 

“Why would Coran be here, Lance? You just got Allura from here less than a varga ago. He’s in the medbay.”

They’d so far been to the kitchens, the male wing of the castle, and the pool. 

Lance walked into the room, hands on his hips. “Maybe he’s on the training deck,” he said to the silent room.

“He’s in the medbay,” Shiro deadpanned, trying to pretend he hadn’t missed this.

“If he’s not, I don’t know where else he could be.”

“He’s in the medbay.”

“Perhaps the library!”

Shiro dropped his head in his hands. “He’s in the medbay.”

“Quiznak,” Lance muttered. Shiro’s head popped up. “I need to hurry up if I want to get to Keith at a reasonable time.”

“Then go to the medbay.” Shiro had had an instructor at the garrison whom he’d later become friends with after he graduated and got with Adam. Adam had been one of the man’s colleagues, and the three would sometimes meet in Adam’s classroom- Shiro to keep him company and the instructor, Sergeant Aperstein, to gossip about cadets and see how Adam was faring with some of the rowdier ones (Aperstein’s words, not Shiro’s). 

One night, over papers long-since graded, with the lights turned low and the windows opened just a crack (Adam liked the evening aesthetic, go figure), with hushed words and flickering gazes, Aperstein told the couple about his time in the war; when he fought, when he was captured, when he was held for the rest of the war as a prisoner. Shiro remembered how he held his breath, caught in the horror of the man’s words. Adam had held his hand tight under the table, grip sweaty. Shiro had just been chosen for the Kerberos mission, and two fights later, and a  _ very _ eloquent apology from Shiro,  _ thank you very much _ , they’d managed to reconcile. Adam was still angry, still terrified, still devastated that Shiro was going to be leaving  _ again _ . But he also supported Shiro. And he lov-

Shiro couldn’t let himself follow that train of thought any further.

Aperstein had been kept in solitude. All of his comrades, his platoon-mates, were gone. They’d been killed when Aperstein was captured- he was the lone survivor. His captors never harmed him, never interrogated him. They just left him in a dark cell. There hadn’t been any sound, nor had there ever been any contact outside of tasteless food twice a day. It had left Aperstein just as tasteless, just as empty, just as dark and quiet. When he was rescued, he couldn’t sleep with the lights out. Being around large crowds made him lash out. It took him three years to go into a dark room willingly. He wouldn’t look anyone in the eyes, not even his wife. He spoke in hushed tones, with a deep voice that rasped and wavered. He’d lost himself in those cells.

Well, most of himself anyway.

Despite all of the horror, Shiro had discovered and come to rely on the man’s sharp wit and easy sarcasm. He could command a room with a single cleared throat, a single well-timed glance. He didn’t have to speak loudly to be heard- the moment he opened his mouth the room fell into respectful- sometimes terrified, in the case of newbies- silence, everyone present hanging on his every word. It was remarkable. In Shiro’s opinion, it was a miracle.

Shiro had asked him how he kept his mind.

Adam had stomped on his toe, and Shiro had tried to backpedal immediately afterward, spluttering and flushed. To his surprise, Aperstein had merely chuckled lowly, reaching to take a drink of whatever Adam, the rebel, had stashed in his classroom. 

“I spoke,” he murmured simply. Shiro blinked. Adam looked between the two.

“Sorry?” 

“I spoke.” Adam looked no less understanding, so Shiro tried.

“Whom were you speaking with?”

“My platoon. They were with me,” he tapped the side of his head, “in here.”

Shiro swallowed thickly. “Did it help?”

“Shiro-” Adam warned.

“Yes. They saved me.” Tears misted the sergeant’s eyes, and Shiro, caught up in the moment, reached across the table to grasp the man’s hands. The older man twitched, his mind too consumed in his memories to register the movement. Then, eyes focusing, Aperstein’s hands tightened, grounding himself to Shiro. He thanked the man with a look, and Shiro nodded his acknowledgment. 

They spent the entire night discussing Aperstein’s teams, trading favorite stories of their collective social circles, teams, and colleagues.

The Kerberos launch happened the morning after, but it was so worth the exhaustion. Shiro hadn’t felt at peace since. 

He hadn’t really thought about what Aperstein said since. Talking to his team? What team? He had no idea where Matt and Sam had gone, and he never had the voice to speak. He was never alone- there was always sound. Always screams. Always a voice crying for help. Always the crazed babble from a prisoner to his left, mumbling about a family they would never see again. Shiro suspected that the only reason the Galra left the alien alive was because of the suffering it brought in the cells. 

Somewhere along the lines, Shiro had forgotten about Aperstein. 

But now? Shiro’s mind was flooded with memories of that night. He walked behind Lance, a small smile quirking his lips as he realized that he could do this. He didn’t have to lose himself, didn’t have to shove aside his mental health.

He could still be Shiro, even if his team couldn’t see him. He could stay with his team, talk to them, watch over them, be there even if they didn’t know it. And then, once he got out of this discount hostage situation, he’d never have to feel alone again. 

It didn’t matter if Lance was talking to the silence. Shiro could still be with him. Could still be his leader.

And nothing would ever be able to change that.

Shiro was pulled out of his reverie by Lance turning to one of the castle computers, pulling up a map of the place. Each communal room had a camera in it, or, if it was a more sensitive room, a sensor so that anyone could be found at all times within the castle.

“Honestly,” Lance was muttering, “why didn’t I think of this earlier? It would have saved me so much leg work.”

Shiro breathed out a sigh, pleased that Lance was getting somewhere.

“Let’s check the pool again- maybe I missed him.”

_ “Lance! _ ”

***

It took a moment, but finally,  _ finally,  _ Shiro and Lance were on their way to Coran.

In the medbay.

Where he’d been for the last fifteen doboshes.

Anyways.

Lance skidded to a stop outside the room, smoothing his hair down carefully and fixing his jacket before stepping inside. Shiro was hot on his heels, relieved that someone was coming to set Coran straight. If anyone could do it at this point, it was Lance.

Shiro watched with detached smugness as the look of confidence and purpose drained away when he caught sight of Coran still trying to tend to his wrist.

“Coran! What happened?!”

Shiro crossed his arms and leaned against the wall behind Coran, watching the exchange with an eagle eye.

Coran jumped a solid two feet in the air, eyes bulging out of his head. Shiro had to stop himself from reaching out to rest a hand on the Altean’s shoulder.

“Ah! Uh- Number Three! What do you need? Are the others alright?”

“What? They’re fine. It’s you I’m worried about.” Shiro could  _ hear _ the moment Lance figured out what was going on. “What  _ happened _ ?” he asked again. Coran didn’t answer, looking away bashfully.

“Nothing, truly, I was just- uh- checking inventory.”

_ Smooth _ .

“Uh-huh. Lemme see.” Lance placed a hand above the Altean’s elbow, and the other on his wrist to inspect the injury, looking at it closely. “You taking inventory of your bruises too? Or perhaps taking note of  _ what caused them _ ?” he asked pointedly.

“Nothing happened- it’s quite alright-”

“Coran,” Lance interrupted, “don’t lie to me. This,” Lance shook the injured limb gently, “isn’t ‘nothing’. What. Happened.” Shiro arched a brow, impressed at the sudden steel in the younger man’s voice.

He was done playing.

“I,” Coran started, looking away, “I tripped.”

Shiro pushed off the wall, looking between Lance and Coran. “Like hell you tripped! Coran, tell him what really happened!”

Lance blinked once. Twice. Thrice. “You tripped.” He didn’t phrase it as a question.

“Yes.”

“And then?” Lance prompted.

“Well, I reached out in an attempt to keep my balance, and my arm hit a tabletop before landing on the floor, taking the rest of my weight with it.” Lance looked at Coran intently, as though he was taking an inventory of his own. Something softened in his gaze, and Shiro took a step back, hopping onto one of the nearby counters to better observe.

“Coran,” Lance asked gently, reaching for and applying a cream from the cart near them and spreading it gently on the bruising. “When was the last time you slept and ate?”

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you,” Coran snipped. Lance blinked at the aggressive answer.

“Coran. You’re not helping your case here.”

“Oh really?” Lance made a meaningful glance at the arm he was now bandaging for the Altean. “When did you last sleep?” he asked again. Coran’s brow furrowed.

“It was right after Number Two made that lovely stew with those herbs from Zleghei-”

“Coran,” Lance interrupted, “that was nearly a movement ago.” Coran blinked slowly, processing. Shiro’s eyes widened and he choked on his next swallow.

“A movement?! You haven’t slept in a _ movement?! _ ” Shiro ranted to the silence. He paced back and forth, keeping up a litany of lectures while Lance addressed the issue.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. ’ _ Oh _ ’.” Lance shook his head. “I swear, you’re all going to be the death of me.” 

“-Unbelievable- Coran  _ you know better than this _ -”

“Have you at least been eating?” Lance tried.

“He’d better have been eating! I swear to-” 

“Yes. Number Two has been keeping the kitchen too well-stocked to not.” Coran informed, a small gleam of pride in his voice at Hunk’s abilities.

“Yeah. One would think that,” Lance groused. Shiro stopped pacing, slightly winded. 

“With this team, you never know,” he complained rhetorically.

“What?” 

“Nothing,” Lance reassured quickly. “I came here to tell you that I was ordering a full rest day tomorrow. Allura, Hunk, and Pidge are all in bed right now.”

“Are they alright?”

“Why can’t you apply that worry to  _ yourself _ , Coran?” Shiro dragged a hand down his eyes. “Are you all seeing this?” he asked the Lions. They all murmured their confirmations. “Are you beginning to see why I need to be here for real?” All but Black answered in agreement. “Just checking.”

Lance grimaced. “They will be. They’d  _ better _ be.” He looked up, taking in the exhausted Altean in front of him. “And you will be too. I’m ordering you a rest day as well.”

“That hardly seems neces-”

“Don’t argue with me, Coran. After a minimum of four vargas sleep, you and the others are to spend the next quintant resting and restoring ‘self-care’ to your memory banks because  _ clearly _ ,” he leveled the advisor with a glare, “you’ve all forgotten.”

“We can’t just all take a quintant off-”

“You bet your ass you can,” Shiro interjected at the same time that Lance cut in.

“ _ We _ won’t,” Lance confirmed. “I’m quite familiar with the idea of health and hygiene; I’ll take care of the castle should anything come up.”

_ This should go well _ .

“Well, I-”

“Go to  _ bed _ , Coran. I’ll come to you if something comes up.” A bold lie, they both knew. But still, Lance thought it was a nice idea.

“Are you su-”

“Don’t make me escort you there!” Lance threatened with a small chuckle. Coran deflated, looking more at peace with the situation. Quietly, Shiro marveled at the way Lance could control the emotions in a room. He’d seen it in action with four of his teammates so far/ It was impressive. He’d have to talk with Allura about getting Lance more involved with their diplomacy meetings- the teen was  _ good. _

Coran nodded once, and, with a kind “ _ goodnight” _ , the advisor left Lance (and Shiro) alone in the medbay. 

Lance leaned back against a nearby wall, letting out a breath slowly and dragging a hand down his face heavily.

“Man, when Shiro gets back I’m giving him a medal,” he muttered, standing to his full height and rolling his shoulders. He looked at his elbow, now sporting a faint bruise from his encounter with Pidge. “It’s like corralling cats with the temperament and self-awareness of marines - I don’t know how he does it.”

Shiro grimaced, catching sight of the elbow and mimicking Lance’s movements, getting a satisfying series of pops from his tight shoulders. “Yeah, buddy,” he said with a quiet chuckle. “It really is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got a little bit longer than I intended.
> 
> Don’t worry- we get to check back in with Keith soon!
> 
> Also thanks so much for the kudos and comments I’ve gotten- I really really appreciate you guys being willing to read this and be so kind to me about it.
> 
> You’ve made quarantine that much better <3
> 
> If there are any glaring issues, feel free to yell at me about it.
> 
> I got to be a part of a birthday parade for one of my friends today and I’m thriving.
> 
> Until next time!
> 
> Peasant out!


	7. Don’t Pull Me Back Just Yet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get a little more perspective on what all Lance has been up to while Shiro continues to enjoy the sight of his teammates.
> 
> Lance needs to get a new hobby.
> 
> At least Shiro’s is functional.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi I’m back!
> 
> Yeah I have no concept of consistency or anything of the like. Shocking. I know.
> 
> Hey it’s the last real day of sophomore year.
> 
> That’s fun. 
> 
> I’ll have a semi sappy message pretty soon for you guys- I just really want to get this posted.
> 
> As per usual, I own nothing that makes you smile.
> 
> Only dark thoughts and old cobblestones over here.
> 
> Oh also the POV of this chapter jumps around a LOT. However any change in perspective is announced with a little *** and the new subject’s name being the first word of the new paragraph.
> 
> So, we get to see stuff from Shiro, Lance, and now KEITH!
> 
> Whoo!

Keith rolled on his side for the fifth time in ten doboshes. He glared into the darkness, trying to will sleep into existence.

This had been going on for around two vargas.

Keith was losing patience.

“This is stupid,” he muttered to the wall across the room. He leaned out of bed, squinting his eyes to see the dim clock across the room that Pidge had programmed to keep track of earth time.  _ 3:50 am. _

He rolled over.

That didn’t change anything.

He rolled back.

_ Quiznaking 3:54 am. _

Back and forth.

_ Fucking three fifty-nine in the fucking morning. _

Back and forth.

_ Four in the godda- _

Nope. 

That’s it.

Keith said as much to the room as he rose to a seated position. “Screw this,” he growled. Silently, he got dressed in his T-shirt and long pants, pulled on his shoes, and tucked his knife into the belt of said pants.

“Might as well do something useful.”

He stepped out of his room, checking left and right to make sure that he was alone in the corridor- he was- when his foot suddenly slid out from beneath him. He fell to the ground with a quiet  _ thud _ , barely managing to stop the startled yelp that nearly escaped him. He landed on his butt, freezing as he waited to see if anyone heard him.

No sound greeted him, and he blew a soft sigh of belief. He looked at his foot, noting the piece of paper he must have slipped on stuck to the sole of it. Odd.

_ Who the fuck leaves paper lying around at four in the morning? _

He tore the paper off, not bothering to see what it was about, before rising once again to his feet and moving on.

After walking down the halls (he  _ wasn’t _ sneaking- he was their team leader. He could do what he wanted), Keith quietly made his way into the training rooms. 

“Training Level 5!” he called to the stillness.

_ Let’s go _ .

***

Shiro followed Lance through the castle to Keith’s room, knowing with not a little pride that Keith was the one paladin Lance  _ didn’t _ have to take care of. 

“Jeez,” Lance said suddenly, taking note of a nearby clock. “It’s 3  _ already _ ? Man, Keith’s gotta be exhausted- I know that I am.”

Shiro gnawed his lip in sympathy, noting the bags forming beneath the team sharpshooter’s eyes. Despite this, there was a triumphant gleam in his eyes, and a determined set to his shoulders as he marched on.

“Black,” Shiro called out, “what are your thoughts? Still think my team is fine without me?”

Black didn’t answer the question.  **_Paladin needs to come back._ **

“Seriously?”

**_Yes. Been too long._ **

“Just give me a little more time- I want to make sure Lance gets settled. No pulling me back,” he reminded, pointing a finger at no one. Though, judging by Black’s huff and Yellow’s muffled laughter, they got the message.

**_Take care of My Paladin_ ** , Red called. Blue seconded the motion. 

Shiro huffed a laugh. “You know I will.”

***

Lance turned the corner to the hall where his and Keth’s rooms were. He stopped briefly at both Hunk and Pidge’s room to check that the two were still asleep. Thankfully, they were, Hunk giving a short snuffle and rolling on his side, and Pidge conked out on her back with her arms and legs askew, snoring at around the decibel of a freight train hitting a bridge at 90 miles an hour. He chuckled softly, heading down the hall past his room to Keith’s.

“Oh,” he said aloud, nearly scaring himself at the sudden sound. The corridor was dead silent. So was Keith’s room. 

He was already in bed.

“Who knew the mullet would be the one person I didn’t have to worry about tonight?” Lance honestly didn’t know who he was speaking to- it just felt right to say some things out loud.

With a shrug, Lance walked over to his room and stepped inside. Instantly, exhaustion hit him like that freight train Pidge was impersonating. He stumbled over to his bed and flopped on top of it, facing his ceiling. “Well, that’s five teammates in bed and accounted for. Not bad, if I do say so myself.” He stretched his arms up, looking forward to a day of no training, or team work exercises, or cleaning-

He should probably tell Keith about that.

_ Quiznak _ . 

With a groan, Lance hauled himself out of bed, already missing the comfort of it. He walked over to a drawer across the room where he’d stashed some paper. Sometimes, when he was bored, he’d write a letter to his family and seal it before hiding it in the bottom of the drawer. Or, if he knew someone in the castle was having a rough time, he’d hide little positive notes around said person’s room. He’d gotten really good at quickly sketching little cartoon faces and writing out neat affirmations with little hearts surrounding them. He’d nearly been caught when he was doing Pidge’s after another botched attempt to find her family. She had come into her room in a whirlwind, forcing Lance to dive under her desk while she grabbed three items and charged out, fury and despair clear in every step she took.

Lance grabbed his favorite pen that he bought the last time the team visited the space mall- it was blue with sparkly ink and a little feathery piece on top that waved and fluttered pleasingly when he wrote quickly. He swore up and down that he wasn’t going to buy it (“Why would I want a  _ sparkly pen _ , Pidge?! I’m not a girl like  _ you- OW!”) _

In all honesty he probably deserved the smack for that one.

The pen wasn’t girly. It was fabulous. Lance saw the ink and he thought of home. It sparkled and shone when he turned the paper like the light on the water at Varadero. If he closed his eyes, he could smell the water, feel the warmth of the burning sun on his shoulders. It was like magic. He shook the pen, noting with a frown that it was running low on ink.

  
He’d have to buy another one.

Discreetly.

For a split second, Lance seriously considered finding a different pen to waste on the mullet. There was no way Keith would appreciate the sparkly blue ink. Maybe he had a red one in here somewhe-

Nope. That pen had died.

His black one?

Dried up.

His green?

Brand new- he didn’t want to use that pen before the rest of them were no longer useful. It was a beautiful metallic green that looked really cool on paper. So far Lance had used it one time, and that was to draw a smiley face for Pidge to find with her computer after he’d taken it hostage one time or another. He’d loved the look so much that he hoarded it away, not to be used until absolutely necessary.

What about his magenta?

Only Allura was allowed to see that color. It was beautiful, like her. He drew her a flower once, putting a lot of effort into it and hiding it beneath her pillow. The magenta pen layered really well, so Lance was able to put some lighting effects in the drawing- it was a juniberry. Coran had once mentioned it in passing, describing the delicate petals and elegant stem. He had watched carefully the morning after, trying to see if he’d accidentally offended the princess, but that fear was instantly quelled when he saw her. She’d tucked the paper into her pocket, and every now and then Lance would catch her looking at it. She’d asked around about the flower, a fond smile playing at her lips as she tried to figure out who to thank.

Lance hadn’t said anything, choosing to hide his smile in his breakfast..

He knew he had a yellow pen stashed somewhere.

Nah. Hunk had borrowed (read: stolen) it a few quintants ago. He’d been labeling things in the kitchen with Coran’s help, and the yellow “just really fit, y’know?”

And Lance did know. So he let Hunk have his orange pen also for variety in cohesiveness.

He had another blue pen, but it was really boring. There was nothing spicy about it.

He could have sworn there was a purple pen in the drawer somewhere- oh, no. The mice accidentally let Kaltenecker eat that one. Nothing bad had happened- Kaltenecker was a pretty sturdy cow, but it  _ had _ produced some fascinating milk for the next few days that had Lance cackling whenever the castle inhabitants caught sight of it. 

There used to be a really pretty silver pen, but he got in trouble when the mice got a hold of it and drew all over Coran and Allura. Shiro had ended up confiscating the pen as a compromise.

Lance was still just a little bit bitter.

Hm. Those were an awful lot of unusable choices.

Maybe Lance needs to stop buying so many pens.

They’re addictive, ok?   
  


It’s fine.

But even with his vast collection, the only pen he could reasonably use was the sparkly blue. 

_ Quiznak _ .

“Well, Keith,” Lance said to the quiet, “hope you appreciate all the thought that has gone into this note.” Quickly, Lance neatly wrote “ _ No work day- relax for once :) _ ” on an empty page of paper. He thought for a moment, brow scrunched, and then added “ _ NO TRAINING >:(“  _ in much larger writing before gently plodding to Keith’s room and setting it outside the door. With any luck, he’d see it when he woke up and actually follow the instructions.

Lance brushed his hands off comically as he walked to his room. “There,” he whispered. “And with that, Lancey-Lance is off duty.” He checked the clock as he walked in. “Jeez,” he said, rubbing his sore neck, “only took until 3:30 in the morning.”

Had he really spent a half hour debating pen choice?

Meh. It was an important conversation to have with himself.

And Pidge said he had skewed priorities.

Jokes on her. 

Sleep didn’t take long to come once he got back in bed. He’d worry about his skin routine later. Today it didn’t seem like it was worth the work. 

***

Shiro really needed to talk to Lance about moderation.

Although the sight of his drawer-full of pens was highly amusing and ridiculously endearing, someone needed to teach the paladin about control.

And no, Shiro’s expansive collection of alien post-its hidden under his mattress was  _ not _ a valid part of the discussion,  _ thank you very much. _

_ That _ was a functional hobby. An artistic souvenir garden, if you will. 

As Shiro watched Lance debate through his pens, his thoughts drifted to the silver pen sitting in his desk drawer- maybe he should give it back now. And while he was on that train of thought, Shiro was pretty certain he recognized that blue pen from a well-timed note in his room a few movements back. Could it be that Lance was the mysterious author?

Honestly, it would make sense. Especially after everything that Shiro had seen tonight.

  
  


“Well, Keith,” Lance murmured, looking at the sparkly blue pen balefully, “hope you appreciate all the thought that has gone into this note.” Shiro huffed a laugh, leaning over Lance’s shoulder to see him write “ _ No work day- relax for once :) _ ” on a page of paper. After a moment's hesitation, Shiro chuckled as he watched Lance scrawl in large letters “ _ NO TRAINING >:(“.  _

He was only minorly jealous of the neat handwriting.

Just a bit.

Shiro followed with interest as Lance placed the note on the floor outside Keith’s room. 

“Hope Keith doesn’t break his neck on that thing,” Shiro remarked, looking at the page dubiously. “That right there is a hazard.” 

Lance didn’t seem to share the sentiment, choosing instead to release a satisfied sigh and brush his hands off.

“There,” he whispered, walking back to his room. “And with that, Lancey-Lance is off duty.” Both he and Shiro noted the clock at the same time.

“Go to bed, Lance,” Shiro advised. “You’re going to hate yourself if you have to run the castle on no sleep.” Actually, Shiro was pretty curious to see how that was going to go. Not that he doubted Lance, but still. The castle was a huge place. A lot of things could go wrong.

“Jeez,” Lance said meanwhile, rubbing his neck, “only took until 3:30 in the morning.”

“Honestly, that’s not terrible as far as ‘corralling cats with the temperament and self-awareness of marines’ goes,” Shiro said, reusing the phrase Lance used earlier.

He’d have to share that one with the team later.

A fond smile overtook Shiro’s face as he watched Lance slump into his bed, out before his head touched the pillow. Shiro had always thought Lance did one of those facial things before bed.

Apparently, tonight wasn’t worth it.

Shiro stepped forward, crouching down so he was at eye-level with the sleeping teen. He reached a hand out, brushing it through Lance’s bangs. He didn’t disturb them, but he felt better doing it so go figure. “Thank you, Lance,” he whispered, “I’ll be back soon- don’t worry. Until then, know that I am  _ so proud _ of you.”

“M’kay ‘iro…” Lance breathed softly. Shiro froze.

“Did he just hear me?” he asked, rising to his feet so suddenly he nearly fell over.

**_Apparently_ ** , Green supplied, sounding astonished. 

“How?”

**_Lions not know_ ** .

“Very helpful.”

**_Team accounted for?_ ** Black asked impatiently.

“Yeah, yeah I think they are.”

**_Come back now_ ** .

Shiro started to nod, but hesitated. “Are they all ok?”

**_Well_ ** **-** Red started, but Black interrupted.

**_Yes. Team is all in beds, safe._ ** Shiro breathed out a sigh, not wanting to return to that world of purple and purposely vague sentient rangers. 

“Ok. I’ll be there in a dobosh.”

***

Shiro sat idly in the Black Lion, unsure of what to do. His team was accounted for and safe. The Lions had no pressing concerns or arguments to address. Black was still as unreasonable as a brick wall. 

He hated the silence. Silence meant isolation. Isolation meant danger. Danger was what he needed to  _ stop _ . To protect against. That was his task, his job. He really hated the lack of tasks. Shiro had been actively pursuing a goal of some sort for over a year now. When he left on the Kerberos trip, his goal was to discover something wonderful. When he was captured, it was to keep his companions, Matt and Sam, alive. When he was separated from them, his sole goal was to survive. After crashing on earth and finding Voltron, Shiro had been focused on leading his team and defeating the Galra.

It wasn’t like the last one wasn’t his goal anymore- Shiro still yearned for the day he could ensure Zarkon and Haggar would never hurt another being ever again- but now Shiro had no way to work towards that goal, which was a first.

He was stuck. 

He tried training to take his mind off the issue, but all that did was remind him that he wasn’t able to invite his team to join him. Without a partner to work with or spar against, things got boring really fast. He tried engaging Black or the others in conversation, but they seemed distracted. Strained, even. 

Something big was going on, Shiro could feel it.

Shiro was about to ask what was going on when Red suddenly surged to life in Shiro’s mind, Black right alongside her. 

“What-”

**_Paladin. Go back._ **

“What? You’re releasing me?” Why now? What had changed?

**_No- My Paladin need assistance. Paladin still not safe, but My Paladin needs help_ ** **.**

“Your Pal-  _ Keith? _ What’s wrong with Keith?!”

**_No time. Go!_** Red roared. **_My Paladin will assist!_** Shiro didn’t waste time asking silly questions. He raced out of the cockpit, hurling himself through the closed hanger doors _(still in spirit, then_ ) and sprinting down the hallways to Keith’s room. He heard a muffled thud and ran faster.

Shiro skidded to a stop, a cry of “ _ Keith _ ” on his tongue as he nearly tripped in his haste to help. All he found, though, was a very bewildered Keith sitting in a heap on the floor with a familiar-looking piece of paper stuck to his foot.

“ _ What the hell _ ?!” he yelled at the Lions, only a little out of breath from the mad dash he made to get here. “Keith is  _ fine! _ Why the hell would you scare me like that?!” The Lions, however, seemed just as confused as Shiro.

**_Lions don’t know_ ** **,** Black admitted.

**_Lion just knows something bad coming._ **

“Since when are you all clairvoyant?” Shiro asked, bewildered at the information coming at him. He watched from the corner of his eye as Keith picked himself up off the floor, glaring at the piece of paper like it had eaten his last pudding cup.

_ Told you that would be a danger, Lance, _ Shiro thought with a wry chuckle. He turned his focus back to the Lions. “So Keith is in danger?”

**_Yes._ **

“Like, right now? Next movement? Because I can probably prevent it if you’d just-”

**_Follow Red Paladin,_ ** Black commanded, interrupting what was, Shiro knew, not his best argument.

“Okay?”

***

Shiro was going to start locking the training deck at night. 

This was insane.

It was currently four-thirty in the morning, and Keith was on level 11 in training. Four bots armed with swords were fighting Keith two at a time. He was holding his own for the most part. Shiro could see faint bruising already starting to form. Despite this, Keith held his Marmoran blade with confidence, never wavering in focus. It was impressive, yes- Shiro wasn’t going to pretend that he wasn’t  _ damn proud _ \- but he could see exhaustion dragging at Keith’s movements. If he went much longer, things would start going downhill fast. 

“Is this danger you were talking about?”

Red hummed her agreement.

**_Find My Paladin. My Paladin will help._ **

“I can’t interact with my team,” Shiro spat, anger flaring at the reminder that he was powerless.

**_Can’t Paladin?_ ** Green questioned suggestively. Shiro ignored her in favor of rushing towards Keith, who’d just hit the floor as a training bot got in a hard hit to the back of his knees. 

“Keith!” he yelled. The teen hauled himself to his feet, chest heaving.

Another bot smacked him across the face, sending him flying. 

“End simulation!” Shiro cried, desperate to do something. Nothing happened. Keith was cornered now, glaring down the training bots as they approached slowly, mob style. “Keith! End the simulation!”

Keith’s eyes narrowed and he shifted his stance. Then, right as one of the bots reached him, he kicked a leg out to catch the outstretched arm and vault over the robots. He landed heavily on the other side, barely keeping his balance. The other training bots whipped around, already locked on their target once more.

“Come at me, assholes,” he hissed, wiping sweat from his brow. Shiro balked.

No no  _ no- _

“End the  _ damn  _ simulation!” he roared. “Black!” he cried, out of options, “what do I do?”

**_Red Paladin._ **

“I can’t get to Lance! There’s no way to wake him up I-”

**_Try._ **

_ Fuck it.  _

Shiro raced out of the training deck, making a beeline for Lance’s room. “Lance!” he yelled falling to his knees in front of the still sleeping teen. A part of him ached at having to wake Lance up after the eventful night he’d just had, but the rest of him was in full nuclear meltdown mode because  _ Keith was going to get himself killed.  _ When nothing happened, Shiro lurched forward, grabbing Lance’s hand.

Ok, so it phased through but  _ close enough _ . Shiro had bigger fish to fry.

“Lance,” he begged. “Wake up. I can’t do anything right now- Keith is going to get himself killed. Please. I’m so sorry, Lance, but you have to wake up! Go to the training deck!  _ Lance!” _

Something sparked between Lance and Shiro. Shiro fell back with a choked gasp, barely catching himself in a half-crouch as he fought to catch his breath.

Lance’s eyes shot open. 

“ _ Shiro?! _ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HE WAKES
> 
> I really love that I’ve been trying to reach this plot point for like four chapters now and STILL haven’t quite gotten there because I’m unable to do anything remotely straightforward.
> 
> I’m honestly just a huge fan of Lance and Shiro hoarding alien office supplies like e-girls in middle school. 
> 
> Also, Keith’s morning dialogue was read and confirmed by my older brother as something he, an older teen, does do when he can’t sleep.
> 
> I’m so professional. Fact checked and *everything*.
> 
> But yeah- this thing is going to finally kick into gear pretty soon. 
> 
> I really really appreciate how kind you all are being- I’ll come back and respond to comments really soon but just for overall:
> 
> THANK YOU SO MUCH. 
> 
> I was literally near tears reading all your kind words yesterday- it’s honestly the main reason this chapter is up right now. You guys got me in a headspace to write and here we all.
> 
> All the love to you guys <3
> 
> (If this feels rushed know that it sort of was- I can’t say that I regret it. I’m excited for you guys to see what is in store. From here we’re going to casually divert from anything remotely canon because I’m in the mood for some OOC’d villains- roll with it. It’ll be fun)
> 
> Peasant Out!


	8. How to Care for Your Paladin Pt. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A guide to dealing with a tired Keith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!
> 
> Guess who’s officially a Jr.!
> 
> Yay.
> 
> Enjoy the hot garbage I’m going to call this chapter.
> 
> The fact that I planned this entire plot without taking into account that I have *no* idea how to write any sort of physical conflicts boggles me.
> 
> I thought I was better than this:p
> 
> I tried rewriting it and that didn’t change any of it, so here. 
> 
> Very sorry.
> 
> But hey we get more Keith perspective. Shiro will take over again in the next one, don’t worry. If you get bored with my writing, feel free to imagine what Shiro is seeing instead. If you have any insights as too what his thoughts might be- feel free to show off in the comments.
> 
> Maybe you’ll teach me something.
> 
> I obviously don’t own VLD or anything that is remotely well-written (duh).
> 
> ENJOY.

Lance had been having the strangest dream.

His family was there, laughing and hugging him and  _ he was home _ .

He was on  _ Earth _ .

Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he wasn’t  _ really  _ there, but it looked like Earth. It felt like Earth. Heck, it  _ smelled _ like earth. All… earthy and… uh. 

Whatever. Earth. 

Everyone was crying and cheering and they were so _ so  _ happy it made Lance’s heart nearly burst. His niece and nephew had thrown themselves into his arms and he was holding them  _ so  _ tightly. Veronica was telling him all about everything he’d missed, how she was doing at the Garrison, and all about what the family had been up to.

Lance hadn’t felt so content in deca-phoebs.

But then the dream shifted. It was dark, and empty, and... purple? Not like Galra purple, no, just a little more blue. In all honesty it might have been a soothing color if it wasn’t such a not soothing place to be. There was this obnoxiously mysterious mist decorating the ground around him. It was also really dark. Like, for no reason. 

0/10. Lance was not satisfied with his stay.

Then Shiro-  _ Dios, Shiro we miss you so much where are you- _ was there. He was talking to Lance. Yelling. He looked so terrified, and Lance knew something big was going down but, try as he might, he couldn’t make out the words.

“Wait- Shiro, I-” Something happened, and Lance nearly fell over. It wasn’t like an explosion or an attack, at least not any attack Lance had been privy to. It was like a spark. A… connection? Like a circuit had just been completed, or something. Lance didn’t have time to figure it out though because he jolted awake, his leader’s name on his lips and echoes in his mind that he couldn’t discern. His left hand was buzzing like it had fallen asleep and blood flow was just now returning to it. 

“What the quiznak?” he asked the darkness sitting up and dragging a hand down his face. He was wide awake- no point in trying to get back to sleep. He looked at the time:  _ 4:38 am. _ “Wow,” he muttered sarcastically, “a whole two hours sleep. Hashtag ‘blessed’.” 

Something lit in the back of Lance’s mind.  _ Red? _

She growled encouragingly and he stiffened, those echoes in his head growing louder. “Training deck?” he whispered. “What?”

The echoes got more intense. “ _ -up! Go to the training deck!  _ Lance!”

“Shiro,” Lance whispered. He racked his brain, trying to figure out why  _ that _ of all things would stick with him from his dream. Everyone was accounted for- why would anyone be on the training deck-

“Keith.” Lance was on his feet before the thought was fully formed, thrusting his feet into his blue lion slippers and shrugging his jacket on over his pajamas before rocketing out the door.  _ Keith you quiznaking idiot I swear if you’re doing something stupid- _

Surprise surprise, Keith was doing something stupid.

The current Black Paladin was grappling with a training bot, three more picking themselves up and advancing slowly on the struggling teen. A sword lay discarded to the side, and Lance realized with a start that it was Keith’s Marmoran blade.

_ Get with the program, genius. Wake up. _

“END TRAINING SEQUENCE!” Lance screamed, racing forwards as Keith was tossed to the ground. In a snap, all the training bots had deactivated and disappeared into the training deck floor. 

By then, Lance had made it to Keith, already reaching out to pull the exhausted leader to his feet. 

“Are you injured?” he asked, frantically looking Keith over. From what Lance could tell, there wasn’t anything life threatening. Keith did look mildly out of it, though, eyes wide and staring at Lance as though he were an apparition. After a moment, he shook his head, eyes clearing and stance straightening. 

“I’m fine, Lance.”

“Oh good.” Lance said, shoulders slumping for the briefest moment. Then he glared at Keith, pushing none-too-gently on his shoulders. “Then what the  _ quiznak _ were you  _ thinking _ ?!”

“I had everything under control,” Keith deflected, stumbling back in surprise. “What are you even doing here?”

“I’m here to drag your ass to bed! Didn’t you see my note? Newsflash-  _ it’s tomorrow. _ ”

“What does that have to do wi- oh.” Keith’s gaze turned hard. “That piece of paper in the hallway? That was a note?”

“Didn’t you read it?” Lance asked, exasperation bleeding into his voice. No appreciation for heartfelt gestures. He’d used his favorite pen and everything.

“Not after I nearly broke my neck on it! Seriously, Lance, that could have killed someone.” They both knew it wouldn’t have.

“Sounds like you don’t need any help getting yourself nearly killed,” Lance spat, throwing his arms out for emphasis. 

“I had it under control,” Keith hissed again, taking a step forward and forcing Lance to retreat back one.  _ Personal space, Mullet. Yeesh. _

“Oh yes,” Lance drawled, taking in the superficial wounds decorating his teammate. “I can see that things were going  _ splendidly. _ ”

“They were, in fact, before you came in!”

“Is that why you were on the ground, about to be clobbered to death by the robots? At 4:40 in the morning?”

“I was- I _am_ fine.”

“You and I both know you’re not.” Keith started at Lanced words, rearing back in surprise at the bluntness. Lance crossed his arms, trying to form a plan discreetly. His eyes caught on the container of quarter staves across the room. Lance fought a smile; he wasn’t a master  _ per say _ at quarterstaff, but Veronica had gone through a brief phase where she wanted to be like Tim Drake (that comic book character who was the third male Robin after Dick Grayson and Jason Todd- he later became his own hero with the name Red Robin and he fought with a staff). 

Lance hadn’t had the heart to tell her that a quarterstaff fighting technique was not the same as a bo staff, which is what the character canonically used. Either way, he’d had to get pretty good with the stupid things before he went to the Garrisson. He smiled wistfully, passively missing the days when bruised wrists and shins courtesy of a talented sister were the worst of his troubles.

“What, I-”

“Keith, if you try and tell me that you’re fine one more time, I will restart the training sequence and leave you for the bots,” Lance threatened, eyes narrowed. Mentally, the cuban was sighing. He’d have to ditch his slippers for this wouldn’t he?

_ As;ljdkf the training deck was  _ cold _! _

He crossed the training deck, reaching for two quarterstaves. “I was hoping to do this later, but since you’re here and stubbornly awake…” Lance tossed a staff to Keith, who caught it with ease, confusion lighting his eyes.

“What are you doing, Lance?”

“Well,” Lance twirled the staff idly, not seeing Keith’s eyes widen at the casual skill, “I’m not going back to bed until you are. I don’t suppose you’re planning to go to bed?” he asked mildly, looking at Keith with forced boredness.

“Of course not.”

“Welp, then I guess I might as well do something useful. Come at me.” Lance dropped back into a defensive stance, holding the weapon loosely in his hands. Keith stood across the deck, looking at Lance in confusion.

“What?”

“Come at me, Mullet. If you aren’t afraid of a sharpshooter armed with a measly stick, that is.” Lance waggled his eyebrows to complete the taunt. 

That was all the prompting Keith apparently needed as he dashed forward, eyes narrowed and focused. Lance leaned back some, gauging Keith’s movements in a blink.

One fascinating fact about a Tired Keith™: he is stupidly easy to read. Even Lance, with his limited close combat fighting, could see exactly what Keith intended to do. Were this a normal sparring match, Lance would have milked this opportunity for all it was worth. 

But it wasn’t. He needed Keith tired, not angry. He wasn’t like Pidge- Keith was a loner, a survivor. His anger would fuel him further, not exhaust him. When dealing with a Tired Keith, go on the defensive. Dodge back, block if applicable. 

Do.

Not.

Engage.

Lance feinted right, which Keith predictably fell for. Rather than counter with a feet-sweep like Shiro had taught Lance, though, Lance instead chose to dance back. He bounced from foot to foot as he watched Keith recollect himself.

“Cut it out, Lance,” Keith snarled, rushing forward with a quick thrust. Lance brought his staff down in a block, the two paladin’s shoulder to shoulder.

“Cut what out?” Lance asked, going for innocent and failing miserably.

“Quit going easy.”

“What?”

“Fucking quit going easy! I can see what you’re doing!”

“That’s a gak in the swear jar!” Lance quipped, dodging back again.

Quiznak. Lance’s plan was failing, and it was failing fast. Hilariously enough, Keith was aware enough to see through Lance’s plans.  _ Every  _ other logic-based brain function had given a quick “404: Page not found” and bolted. But not Keith’s suspicious nature no no no. Lance isn’t nearly lucky enough to get a  _ gullible _ Tired Keith.

Instead, he had a suspicious Tired Keith. Suspicious Keith’s of all kinds are very easily irritated, the Tired type especially. True to his form, Lance could see the telltale signs of Keith getting worked up. 

The rules were different when a Tired Keith got worked up- he reverted back to more traditional mindsets, once again becoming about as readable as a brick wall. 

He had to get Keith calmed. A Calm Keith would be  _ fantastic  _ right now. 

When is Keith calm?

When he’s sleeping?

Well that’s out.

_ When he’s winning. _

Lance knew that Keith was at his most serene when he was at the advantage. He’d seen him too many times in skirmishes with the most content smile on his face to not make the connection.

_ Quiznak. _ This was going to  _ suck _ .

***

Keith honestly hadn’t expected Lance to cave so easily. One snapped command and Lance’s entire demeanor shifted. His eyes hardened imperceptibly, and his grip on his quarterstaff tightened expertly. 

“Fine,” he acquiesced. “Come at me, Samurai.”

And Keith did. Instead of Lance dodging back, though, he brought his staff up, and twirled with the blow to throw Keith off balance. Keith was mildly ashamed to admit that it worked.

Trying to save face, Keith whipped his staff down towards Lance’s shoulder, managing to get Lance’s arm as the younger teen tried to block. He grimaced at the blow.

Keith would have to apologize to Lance later, wouldn’t he?

Keith barely had time to form the thought before Lance was diving forwards, going for a leg sweep, but ended up sliding across the room as Keith countered with a solid kick to the center of Lance’s chest. It wasn’t hard enough to break anything, but it did stun the Paladin briefly.

“Dude,” Lance wheezed as he picked himself up, “you fight  _ dirty _ .”

“You’re the one that gave me a  _ stick _ . What’d you expect me to do?” 

“It’s a quarterstaff, you uncultured 80’s Sitcom Reject,” Lance sniffed imperiously, “I was going for something challenging.”

“You and I both know I could kick your ass with any weapon.”

Lance didn’t respond. He merely arched a brow, looking at the quarterstaff in his hands and emphatically eyeing the blade still lying across the room.

“Any  _ melee _ weapon,” Keith amended. Lance smirked before diving back into the sparring match.

Lance went high, going for Keith’s forearm. Keith parried, thrusting forward with the momentum of blocking Lance’s hit and knocking his feet out from beneath him. Lance hit the ground with a dull thud, glaring at Keith goodnaturedly as he brushed himself off.

“That was rude,” he muttered. Keith smirked slightly, though something in the back of his mind registered the way Lance’s eyes brightened the slightest bit, adding a resigned set to his shoulders. Keith ignored it for now, chalking it up to it being after five in the morning. 

He couldn’t rest yet. His brain wouldn’t  _ shut up _ . His thoughts were still buzzing, his heart still aching.

Sleep was not an option.

Lance rushed forward, pulling Keith out of his thoughts harshly as the two locked swings. Lance slid left, breaking the clash and dodging Keith as he bolted forward. Lance whipped around to face his opponent, tossing his staff from one hand to the next with a wry grin.

“Why are you smiling?” Keith asked, trying to interpret the deliberate movement.

“Because I know something that you do not know.”

“And what is that?”

Lance’s grin grew, practically taking up his entire face. “ _ I  _ am not left-handed,” he cackled, having block a thrust from Keith. Keith flipped his staff in his hands, driving the end of it into Lance’s stomach.

“What?” he asked, pausing as Lance picked himself up again. “This is a two-handed melee weapon.” Keith was perplexed, and he looked at his staff quizzically while Lance recovered. Despite having the wind knocked out of him, Lance was still laughing. 

“You- you do- don’t know the p-Princess Bri- Bride?” Lance wheezed, hands on his knees as he fought to get a handle of himself.

“Am I supposed to?”

Lance whipped up, spine straight and eyes narrowed.

“ _ You _ are a disgrace,” he informed with a jabbing finger in Keith’s direction. “I can not believe I am being led by such an uncultured swine. I demand a movie night in the future- I’m pretty sure Pidge has some classics stashed on that laptop of hers.”

“Noted,” Keith said simply, trying to ignore the exhaustion tugging at his mind. The more Lance joked, the more relaxed Keith got. Annoying. So, he readied himself for the next attack. “Come at me, McClain.”

***

Lance really hated Keith’s survival complex. It was almost as bad as Shiro’s hero/guilt complex.

On the one hand, Lance’s plan was working.

On the other, it wasn’t working nearly fast enough. Keith hadn’t been exaggerating with that comment about being able to kick his ass with any melee weapon (Keith couldn’t shoot a blaster accurately to save his life and it was the  _ funniest  _ thing Lance had seen the entire time he’d been in space).

Currently, Keith was wiping the floor with Lance. Lance liked to think that it was because he was going easier, which he was. He’d been pulling his hits the entire time, hoping to just spar Keith to exhaustion.

But he’d forgotten to factor in the intensity of Keith’s stubbornness and survival complex. At this rate, Keith would get himself kill-

Lance froze as that voice filled his mind again. “- _ Keith is going to get himself killed-” _

Keith, the bum, took advantage of Lance’s momentary distraction and knocked him over. Again.

He was going to be  _ so sore _ tomorro-

Oh yeah. It  _ was _ tomorrow.

Thanks a lot, Fearless Leader.

Lance got to his fee with a groan. He needed an accelerant to his plan. Something to get Keith mentally tired- he should have known better than to try and outlast Keith’s physical stamina. The guy lived in the  _ desert _ for a year for quiznak’s sake.

So, Lance started rambling. He hadn’t missed the way Keith’s figure sagged just a little bit when Lance made the movie reference. He and Pidge would have to address  _ that _ atrocity later. For now, he had other problems. 

“So, Mullet,” he started, barely dodging Keith’s attack, “come here often?”

Keith didn’t say anything.

Lance  _ tutted _ , putting most of his weight behind a blow, aiming for Keith’s knees. Keith, however, countered, and Lance ended up on his behind.

Again.

“Ow,” he muttered, rolling back to his feet. Lance barely had a moment to collect himself before Keith was coming at him once more. “Is this, like, a usual occurrence that none of us knew about? Or is it in light of recent events?” _That_ made Keith pause. It was only for a second, and then- _quiznak that was his wrist you quiznak!_

Not his most eloquent inner monologue.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Keith hissed, sliding a foot beneath Lance’s left and knocking him over. “Now get up.”

On the bright side, Keith was talking. On the down side, Lance was tiring. He needed to make something happen, and quickly.

“I don’t know,” Lance commented. He swung wide, hoping to knock Keith off balance. The blow was met, so Lance thought fast and rushed forward to shoulder check Keith out of the way. Surprisingly, it worked. “I mean, I haven't noticed anything like this happening beforehand, and I’m pretty astute- “

“-Lance-”

“Plus, all of the others have been displaying mildly self-destructive behavior for the past few weeks, and that’s definitely new-”

“- _ Lance- _ ” Keith came faster and harder, and Lance said heck it and met him blow for blow. Keith was so focused on maintaining his image to note the change in battle.

“But maybe they’re all connected, you feel me? It could be- ow- that we’re all trying to cope-”

“ _ Lance!” _

“With the loss of Shiro. I mean, I know you must be- hah- taking it hard, what with him being basically- ugh I don’t  _ like yo _ ur attitude- your older brother, but you’d know better than me-”

“ _ Stop it _ !”

“Make me, Keith! You’re obviously not yourself right now, I’m not leaving until you admit it!”

“Stop  _ talking _ !”

“Nope. You know how stubborn I can be,” Lance pushed against the hold as their hits collided and stilled, both sides nose to nose. Sweat dripped down Lance’s back, and he fought a grimace at the nastiness of it. “Admit it, Keith. You’re not able to deal with the fact that  _ Shiro _ , your  _ brother _ , is who knows where and you’re alone, on this ship, piloting  _ his  _ lion, leading  _ his _ team, and not getting anywhere in the search for him-”

“I’m fine!”

“Don’t lie to me, Keith! I know you’re not- why else would you be doing this to yourself?! You’re self destructing and spiraling because, for all your acting and faking, you are  _ terrified _ that we are never going to find Shiro, that you’re going to be alone all over again, and  _ you. Can’t. Handle. It- _ ”

“ _ STOP! _ ” Keith roared, swinging his staff across Lance’s chest. Luckily, he was able to bring his staff up to block, but Lance still went flying backwards, nearly hitting the wall. Keith blinked in shock, tears stinging his eyes. “You- You’re  _ wrong _ . It’- I’m-” His eyes narrowed once again. “I’m  _ fine _ .”

“You’re really not, and I’ll prove it to you,” Lance huffed, ignoring the way his everything groaned at the prospect of going another round. “Now come at me.”

***

Keith lunged forward, blinded by fury and fear. Through the haze he could see Lance set his stance, eyes narrowed and hardened. He held the quarterstaff between his tan hands loosely, expertly. 

They clashed with a loud  _ thwack _ , ricocheting back from each other only to rush back. It was a dance of precision and focus. Lance was a fluid blur, filling Keith’s senses with words and  _ pain  _ and he was  _ fine _ don’t say it don’t say his name-!

Keith fell out of rhythm.

In a blink, he was on his ass on the training floor, chest heaving with Lance’s quarterstaff directly in front of his nose as he looked up mutely at him.

“Keith,” Lance growled, eyes dangerous, “you need to be honest with yourself.”

“Lance-” Keith tried to stand up, but was stopped when Lance glared at him.

“ _ Stay down. _ Admit defeat.”

“No I can still-”

“ _ Keith. _ I can not help you until you get your head  _ out of your ass _ and acknowledge that you. Are. Not. Coping. Well.” Lance spoke deliberately, something his eyes making Keith feel like Lance could see straight through him.

“I-”

“Keith,” Lance’s entire demeanor softened. “ _ Please. _ You and I both know that Shiro would  _ kill _ me if I let this continue. You are not alone in this. Please don’t push us all away. Please let me help.” 

Keith grasped for words, trying to make sense of everything. It was too much- Lance, the team,  _ Shiro,  _ God he missed him so much.

He needed help. He needed it badly. Keith was drowning in confusion and fear and  _ nothing _ he was doing was helping. 

Lance looked at him pleadingly, lowering his staff and whirling it so it rested behind his shoulder vertically. Keith looked away, trying to collect his thoughts. He thought he could do this. He thought he could handle this.  _ Shiro  _ thought he could!

So why was he struggling so much?

“Keith,” Lance said gently. How he knew exactly what Keith was thinking, Keith didn’t want to know. “It’s not weak to need help. It doesn’t mean you’re going against Shiro’s wishes, nor does it mean that you’re failing as our leader.” Keith shook his head, opening his mouth to deny it. “Listen to me,” Lance stopped him, crouching down in front of the dark haired teen, “no one could do more than you already are. You are doing  _ enough _ , Keith. I know it’s a horrible situation, I know that none of us wanted this to  _ ever _ have to happen. But  _ this _ ,” Lance waved his arms out in emphasis, nearly knocking himself over, “is  _ not _ your fault. You can not keep punishing yourself like this, Keith! The rest of the team, they’ll follow your example, however unconsciously. You have to cut yourself a break.”

“Lance, I- I’m  _ sorry. _ ” Lance stood up, extending a hand to Keith, who took it silently. Keith had scarcely gotten his balance before Lance was wrapping him up in a gentle, but grounding, hug. Keith felt himself tense-  _ when was the last time he’d been hugged _ \- before all the fight drained out of him. His own arms wrapped around Lance’s jacket clad shoulders- why the hell was Lance wearing his jacket and pajamas, anyway?

Dammit, Lance gave  _ good  _ hugs. Lance spoke over Keith’s head, which, Keith felt secure enough in his pride to say, was buried in Lance’s collarbone.

He’d really needed this.

“Apologize by taking better care of yourself. I’m calling a rest day tomorrow and  _ so help me _ , Kogane, I will lock the training deck if I have to.”

Keith looked away, embarrassed. “That shouldn’t be an issue.”

“Good. I’ve already gotten the rest of the team informed- you are all to sleep  _ at least _ four vargas, and then take the rest of today to remind yourselves what self-care is.”

“‘Us all’?” Keith questioned. “What are you doing.”

“I, O Fearless Leader, am going to be taking care of the castle while my idiotic, though lovable, teammates are taking care of themselves.”

“Are you sur-”

“I’ll be fine, Mullet,” Lance reassured quickly. “Now come on,” he chirped before Keith could press further. “We have to make a pit stop.”

“Where?”

“The Medbay.”

“Why?”

“Uh, dude, have you  _ seen _ yourself? You’re a walking talking medical mess.”

“You aren’t exactly a pretty picture yourself right now,” Keith shot back. 

“Yeah. Wonder why that is,” Lance deadpanned. Keith could have smacked himself.

“Sorry about the- I - uh-”

“Keith. It’s fine. If minor bruising is what it takes to get you to see sense, I have no problem playing training dummy,” Lance said quickly. He winced as he moved his back wrong. “Just, uh, maybe not every quintant, m’kay?”

Keith chuckled. “As you wish.”

“So you  _ have _ seen the movie!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again. Sorry.
> 
> Can you tell I’m a passive nerd?
> 
> Next chapter we get to see exactly what the heck Lance is going to be up to with this mess that he planned. 
> 
> Then hopefully some fluff because that I’m actually not terrible at WHOO.
> 
> OH! 
> 
> So I’ve plotted out the rest of the story after this scene, these last eight chapters have basically been the exposition. From here on out we’re going to be WAY less canon compliant and things should start moving.
> 
> I’ve got at least sixteen plot points I want to hit.
> 
> I’m still trying to decide if I like the multiple chapters explaining the same situation, so it likely won’t happen anymore in the rest of the story unless it’s showing entirely different interactions happening at the same time, or giving some interlude that other characters missed, or that the rest of us need for better context.
> 
> To those of you sticking with this cluster whoops, thank you so much for your kindness and consideration- it really means the world to me.
> 
> See you next chapter!
> 
> Peasant out!


	9. Trust Paladin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonding Moment 2.0????  
> Shiro gets some help in negotiating a curfew.  
> Lance might be in over his head.
> 
> Then again... maybe not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *peeks out from behind mound of pillows*  
> Hi!!!  
> Uh, so it’s been a month.  
> Sorry about that. Promise that wasn’t my plan.  
> But! To rectify this grievous mistake, not only have I written an extra long chapter, but you now have the chance to read my very first one-shot!
> 
> Yaaaaay.
> 
> Where were we....  
> Shiro does some deep thinking here. I got a little emotional writing it. Bear with me.
> 
> I must say that I was truly shocked to discover that I don’t, in fact, own anything to do with VLD. Going to have to work on that.
> 
> But yeah!
> 
> Welcome back! Thanks for returning at all <3

“Remind me to tell Coran he’s a life-saver.” Lance tossed the round container of bruise soothers in the air idly, waiting on Keith to finish wrapping a larger, thankfully superficial, cut on his arm. Lance had offered to do it for him, but, true to form, Keith had quite literally slapped his hand away, muttering something in Emo.

Pidge and Lance were still working on their translation algorithm for understanding Emo. Keith had refused to help, despite being their only option for a fluent participant. Shiro, when asked, had played the “Wet-Blanket-Space-Dad” card and opted to watch from afar to make sure that no one got themselves stabbed trying to coerce the seething teen (Lance’s chest ached at the memory: what he wouldn’t give to have that card played again. Then they’d have him _back_ ). 

Lance liked to believe Keith secretly liked their schemes. 

“Keith? Done yet?” As punishment for being stubborn, Lance had taken it upon himself to ask Keith this every ten tosses of the medical cream in his hand. 

“I’m nearly done,” Keith growled. Lance smirked slightly. Keith had no sense of creativity in answer.

_One._ Catch.

_Two._ Catch.

_Three._ Catch.

_Four._ Ca- _yeahtch don’t drop it-_

_Five._ Catch.

_Six._ Catch.

_Seven._ Catch.

_Eight._ Oooh two flips, nice.

_Nine._ Okay tossing this is boring just count.

_Nine and a half._

_Nine and a fourth._

_Nine and an eighth._

_Why is it ‘I got_ a _one’ but ‘I got_ an _eight’? They both start with vowels-_

_Uh, I mean-_

_Ten._ Catch (just counting got boring).

“Keith? Is the bandage behaving itself?” Lance could see very clearly from where he was that it wasn’t. Keith was having the same issues Coran did with his wrist. 

“It’s _fine,_ Lance!” Lance grinned. So he _did_ have a vocabulary!

“Ah finally! Some variation!” he called back. Keith was too focused on glaring at his arm to notice.

“What?” Keith snarled, sounding very strained. 

“Nothing~” Lance sang. 

He should probably be nicer to Keith. The new leader had had a long night, what with the psychological strain of dealing with a team falling apart, a missing brother, a seemingly endless war, a near-fatal training incident, and then, to top it all off, an encounter with Lance of all people.

And then _losing_ to Lance.

Eeesh. Sounds harsh.

Can’t relate.

“Keeeith,” Lance drawled, looking at an imaginary watch on his wrist. “Remember when I said that I wasn’t going to bed until you did?”

“I’m _well aware_.”

“Just making sure you were keeping it in mind,” Lance said, knowing he was poking the bear but having _way_ too much fun. Besides, it wasn’t like his comment wasn’t relevant; he’d promised Coran and Allura that he would take care of the castle, and he planned to make good on his promise. 

He just didn’t want to have to do it running on basically a varga of sleep, and that was _before_ dealing with grumpy over there smacking him around for a while. He’d won, sure. 

But he was _sore_.

It was too early for this quiznak.

Speaking of the grump…

Keith growled from across the room, slamming his hand on the nearest flat surface. A bottle of something smelly fell to the floor and rolled a bit.

“Keith,” Lance asked with a raised eyebrow, “has anyone told you that you’re a toddler when you’re tired?”

“I am not a-” Keith stiffened suddenly before all the fight drained from him. He held the bandage out to Lance wordlessly, something soft in his gaze that hadn’t been there before. “Yeah, actually.”

Lance sucked in a breath. “Shiro,” he guessed, setting his jar of cream aside.

“Yeah. He used to tease about it the next morning, saying that next time he’d have goldfish or applesauce for me or other stupid stuff. I always got angry with him, but now...” Lance took the bandage from Keith, gently securing it before placing a hand on the shorter boy’s shoulder.

“We’ll get him back,” he promised. Keith gave a tiny smile, nodding slightly. Lance smiled back, thrilled that he and Keith were finally making headway here.

Keith, of course, had to ruin the moment by yawning loudly, eyes widening comically at the outburst.

“Aaaaand that’s your cue to exit,” Lance chuckled, pushing Keith gently out of the medbay. “You need sleep, mullet.”

“What- but you-” 

“Have gotten plenty of sleep,” the Blue Paladin lied smoothly. “I have things to do, and now so do you.”

“Huh?”

“Keith,” Lance explained, slowly articulating each word, “you are going to get four vargas rest _minimum_ , and then you will spend the rest of today _resting_ and _relearning_ what ‘self-care’ means with the others. Okay?”

Keith gave him an unimpressed look.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Begone, thot!”

“...what?”

“I’ll explain it when you’re older.”

Keith shook his head slightly, turning to walk out of the room. He paused at the door. “Hey, Lance?”

“Yeah man?”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

***

Lance dragged himself back to his room, ready to catch a half varga nap before tackling the Castle of Lions. He’d set an alarm earlier, knowing that Coran always rose early to get all of the morning functions going.

It wasn’t going off- _sweet_ , Lance thought. _I have time._

Lance tugged off his slippers, not bothering to hang up his jacket that was still over his pajamas and sank down onto his mattress.

_Dios_ , had it always been this soft?

Lance breathed deeply, trying to clear his mind and fully relax.

That wasn’t the easiest thing to do when your mind was suddenly assaulted with the piercing shriek of a yalmor. 

Lance didn’t realize that that was what it was set to- Coran had chosen it for Lance after the Paladin requested a “gentle alarm”.

He and Coran would have to discuss what exactly gentle was later. Yalmors _hurt_.

So that was a no on the nap then.

Joy.

Lance hauled himself to his feet once again with a pained groan, already tugging off his sweaty pajama shirt. Training in it had definitely not been the move. This wasn’t what he had in mind when he told Coran he had it handled- this _sucked_ . No human was meant to be up this early. He looked at the Earth Time clock on his wall: _5:30_.

Lance wasn’t one to cuss, his Mama raised a _gentleman_ , thank you very much, but _dammit._

This was going to _suck_.

***

“Alright,” Lance mused, looking around the kitchen, “if I was Pidge’s coffee, where would I hide?” Normally, Lance would have cocoa or a blend of Coran’s favorite teas with an early morning, but today he needed caffeine, and he needed it _now_.

Where better to find that than the Castle's No. 1 caffeine addict herself, the lovely Pidge/Katie Holt?

No, just Pidge. Katie sounded weird coming from Lance’s brain. That was her name, and it was flattering, yes. But… Pidge.

Pidge just worked better here. She had always been Katie, but to Lance, she would always be Pidge.

Oooh hey, that was poetic.

Tired Lance should write a novel or something.

He’s a genius.

Uhhh… back on target: Caffeine.

It took a few doboshes of head-scratching and passive exasperation, but Lance did eventually found it _under a secret panel in the floor_.

Why did the Castle even _have_ that?!

Lance was truly at a loss there.

No matter: he had found the coffee. Now he could get to work. Lance pulled out the coffee machine, dubbed the Space Coffee Machine because he and Pidge were talented comics who had excellent taste in titles and knew just how to add an original spin on some of their more common nouns. So far the list was, but not limited to: Space Door, Space Chair, Space Salt Shaker, Space Shoelace (no one actually knew what shoe the Space Shoelace belonged to- everyone else’s were accounted for. Lance thought it gave the Castle a little more personality to preserve the mystery by keeping the shoelace safely in a box at the bottom of his sock drawer), Space Couch Cushion (there was not, however, a Space Couch. There were only couches), and, obviously, Space Coffee Machine.

They weren’t allowed to embellish the title on anyone sentient after Shiro banned it. There may have been an incident involving a certain Space Emo, Lance, and a plain old can opener, but who was to say, really?

Wasn’t like anyone could prove anything.

Where was he going with this?

A sweet, delicious _ding_ clued Lance in on his initial train of thought.

Oh, right! Coffee!

“Come to Lancey,” he muttered, grabbing a light blue mug from the cabinets (the fact that King Alfor felt the need to include color-coded dishes based on the Paladins’ armor never ceased to make Lance’s heart happy. He’d have to show Pidge- she had a thing for organization.

It was at this moment that Lance made a fascinating discovery. Two, actually. 

Discovery One: Coffee is a beautiful liquid. Lance wasn’t sure why it mattered, but as he poured the dark, rich brown treasure into his mug he found it to be the most important detail in the whole universe. It was _beautiful_.

Whatever. Tired Lance was weird.

Discovery Two: Pidge’s coffee was _nasty_. Lance’s entire face screwed up as he took a large gulp of the gorgeous drink, barely managing to avoid spitting it out.

How did she _drink_ this stuff?! Lance shook his head, forcing himself to swallow the brewed mistake. It was bitter and _so_ overpowering in a way that coffee shouldn’t be. Sure, Lance’s Papa and he had shared a strong black coffee during quiet mornings, but that was nothing like _this._

Pidge’s coffee was deceptive: looked _amazing_ , tasted like death brought to an easy boil. Tired Lance thought that it was a fitting parallel to Pidge herself.

That was an awful lot of personality for such a small and unassuming package. A disturbing amount, in fact.

Just saying.

Despite his issues with Discovery Two, Lance took a deep breath and chugged the rest of the steaming liquid. _Caffeine is caffeine, y’know? Suck it up, McClain._

_EwewewewewewewewewEWEWEWEWEWEWEWEW_ **_EWEWEW-_ **

Lance grabbed a water pouch. Or five.

_Yuck! Bad coffee! Very bad coffee!_

***

Lance had a new discovery: Caffeine was _amazing_.

No wonder Pidge subsisted entirely on the untrustworthy drink- this stuff was _magic_.

Tired Lance was a thing of the past; now introduced the emergence of _Wired_ Lance. This guy was awesome. He was stoked, woke, and going for broke.

Time to be badass.

***

Shiro needed to talk to Black. 

Things were happening with his team- things that he needed to be witness to for his own sanity and peace of mind. His team was coming together again, finally pulling themselves up in his absence.

No way was he not going to be right there with them.

So, it was time for a team meeting.

Er, a _pride_ meeting, to be more accurate.

Heh. He’d have to use that one with the team later- Pidge and Lance would love it. Knowing them they’d take it to a whole new level, ready to fill idle comm chatter with puns and jokes and facts and corrections-

Stay on target, Shiro. 

_Okay. We need a game plan._

Step One: Talk to the Lions- get a new agreement

Step Two: Watch over his team

Step Three: Figure out why the Lions are keeping him cooped up here.

Step Four: Get out.

Step Five: Tell his team about his idea.

Shiro couldn’t see any faults in that plan. There definitely weren’t any doubts circling his head as he walked the halls to the Black Lion’s hanger. He wasn’t worried that he would never get out of this mess. Or that he wouldn’t ever get to talk to his team ever again. Or that he would have to watch his team from afar forever. Or that he would take too long to get back to them and something terrible would happen. Or that he would fade away entirely in this world, forgotten to everyone. Or that-

**_Paladin. Calm,_ ** Black soothed, picking up on the hurricane happening in Shiro’s mind. **_Lion is here- how Lion can help?_ **

Shiro, startled out of his thoughts by the sentient feline, sighed quietly. “I need you to do something.”

**_Lion can not do that, Paladin._ **

“So you’ve mentioned. Actually, I was hoping to discuss something else with you.”

**_Come back- Lion and Paladin can discuss here._ **

“You’re not going to like it.”

**_When does Black ever?_ **Blue cut in impishly. Shiro stifled a laugh.

“I’m on my way.” Shiro picked up the pace, jogging down the halls to his lion. 

Hopefully, this went better than he figured it would.

***

**_WHAT?!_** Black roared. Shiro stared up at her impassively.

“I told you you wouldn’t like it.”

**_Paladin!_ ** she cried. **_It is not safe!_ **

“You keep saying that! But nothing ever happens!” Shiro countered. “What could possibly happen to me out there- I’m invisible to my team, I can pass through doors, I can’t disturb anything physical; _what exactly_ do you think is going to happen?!”

**_It’s_ ** **not safe** **_!_ **

“If that’s the only defense you have, then this conversation is over,” Shiro growled, turning away from the Lion.

**_Paladin,_ ** Yellow said softly.

“ _What_?” Shiro snapped, regretting his words instantly.

**_Calm, Paladin,_ ** Red reprimanded. **_Lions are on Paladin’s side._ **

“Right. Sorry. I just-”

**_Paladin needs to be with team,_ ** Green said gently.

**_It is not safe with team!_ ** Black hissed. **_Do not oppose Lion, sisters._ **

**_Lions will not oppose Black,_ ** Red hissed back **_But Lions will also not stand with Black._ **

**_Lions support Paladin. Let Paladin watch over team- Paladin is safe in this world- Paladin will watch over team in that one,_ **Blue explained.

**_Paladin can keep team safe too,_ **Yellow implored.

Black huffed. **_Lions will keep team safe. Paladin doesn’t-_ **

**_Paladin can do more than Lions can,_ ** Red noted, Shiro not missing the bitterness to her words. **_Let Paladin be._ **

**_Paladin is strong. Paladin is good protector,_ ** Yellow reassured. **_Paladin can monitor team by day and keep Lions informed on Our Paladins. Then Paladin can come back to Lions in evening to rest under Black’s watch._ ** Shiro fought a grin at the obvious persuasion tactics going on there. Not that he minded being complimented and talked up by several ancient feline spaceships. It was just fascinating to observe.

**_Does Black not trust Paladin?_ ** Red asked with thinly veiled mocking rhetoricality. 

**_Of course Lion trusts Paladin!_ ** Black snapped.

**_Then trust Paladin’s judgement, sister,_ ** Green implored. **_Paladin knows Paladin’s limits. Lion will ruin Paladin’s bond with Black if Lion doesn’t let Paladin govern own actions._ **

Damn. They were good.

Hopefully Black never got them to support her. Shiro would be screwed.

“Thanks,” Shiro said quietly.

**_Go back to team, Paladin,_ ** Blue commanded softly. **_Red Paladin has long day ahead._ **

Right- Lance was going to be taking care of the castle. This was going to be an interesting day.

“I’ll let you all know how it goes.”

**_Be safe, Paladin,_ ** Yellow encouraged. **_Lions will be here when Paladin returns._ **

Shiro sent a final thank you to the others for backing him up before jogging back the way he came. If Lance’s instructions were being followed, then the castle should be quiet for a little while, barring no crises. Pidge and Hunk were coming up on their four-varga requirement, but Shiro knew that Hunk slept like a bear- deep and heavy- when he knew he could sleep in, and Pidge was probably going to be out for half of the quintant, if her exhaustion from last night was anything to go by. She’d likely need a movement or so for her system to fully recover and adjust. Allura and Coran would probably be up and about in two vargas- Lance had spent around a varga asleep- Shiro’s gut twisted uncomfortably at the realization that he’d basically been up all night- and then another with Keith to get him out of the training deck.

Last Shiro had checked, Lance and Keith were going to the medbay before Keith went to bed. Hopefully, they’d been able to go to bed shortly after, which would have given Lance an extra half varga to nap and take a breath before beginning his task. 

Satisfied with his mental timeline, Shiro strolled down the halls of the Castle of Lions, making his way towards the Paladin wing. He needed to check on Keith- Shiro could not get the desperate loneliness in his basically brother’s eyes when Lance got him to admit his weakness, when Lance broke through his walls.

Keith had looked… so lost. So broken. 

Shiro hadn’t seen him like that _ever_. It scared him. So, while Lance got his bearings after his eventful night, Shiro would check in on Keith like he used to when Keith was younger, when times were simpler.

God, he missed those days. So _so_ much. 

Maybe he could connect with Keith like he had with Lance. Shiro hadn’t really had a moment to dwell on the fact that Lance had whispered “ _Shiro_ ” to the darkness after Shiro had begged him to wake.

None of the Lions had explained why that worked.

**_Lions didn’t know it was possible,_ ** Black gently interrupted Shiro’s thoughts. **_But Lions are glad it did, for Red Paladin’s sake._ **

“You and me both,” Shiro whispered, walking softly through another doorway. A small part of him was mildly disturbed at how well he’d adjusted to this new situation.

That was to be addressed later. After he’d checked on his brother. Shiro spied the entrance to the medbay, noting happily that he was close to his destination. 

But when Shiro passed the medbay, Lance and Keith were _still there_. They were talking, well, Lance was talking. Keith was glaring daggers at his arm where he was attempting to wrap gauze around it. From what Shiro could tell, there weren’t any serious injuries. Lance was loitering nearby, watching Keith passively and quietly heckling the teen when the silence stretched too long.

Shiro was beginning to wonder if he and the rest of Team Voltron had been underestimating their Blue Paladin. If all that annoying chatter and all the silences broken before they could stretch too far weren’t about attention. If every time Lance appeared at a moment when one of his team members were at their lowest wasn’t bad timing. If every time he helped one of them through a crisis; Shiro through a triggered trauma, Hunk through a panic attack, Coran through a painful memory, Allura through a loss of hope, Pidge through a self-deprecation spiral, Keith through the maze of his mind, if every time he came to them with soothing words and solid logic to grasp onto wasn’t just a fluke, a simple coincidence. If maybe he’d been doing more than they could have ever understood, had Shiro not taken a step back and seen behind the scenes.

Maybe, the chatter was because he knew none of them could handle being left to their own thoughts for long. Maybe Lance knew that they all felt better when they weren’t alone with themselves, that having someone with them, offering his ears and heart, was more comfort than any advice, any words, any placation could have possibly granted. Maybe Lance knew more about coping than any of them had ever considered. 

Maybe he’d been going through it on his own.

Shiro’s steps slowed, eyes widening. Maybe Lance was able to keep his problems, his needs, at bay by soothing others around him. Maybe Lance reached out to help knowing that none of the others would understand to reach back through and help the Cuban in turn. 

Maybe they’d been taking Lance for granted.

_Oh God._ Shiro was nauseous. _Red? Blue? Am I right?_ Silently, Shiro was begging them to tell him that he and his friends hadn’t been blind, that he was wrong and paranoid and just being excessively introspective.

**_My Paladin never minded,_ ** Red attempted to comfort.

**_Red Paladin loves team,_ ** Blue reassured.

Shiro didn’t feel particularly comforted or assured though. How could they have been so blind?

**_Don’t dwell, Paladin,_ ** Black purred soothingly. **_Focus on the present. Focus on team now, not team then._ **

_I will. I’ll make this right._

Shiro took a deep breath, stepping into the medbay fully and hopping up on a nearby counter. Coran would have swatted him off if he’d done it under regular circumstances, but seeing as how Coran wasn’t in the medbay, and neither was Shiro, technically, he decided that he could get away with it. Keith had yet to win the struggle against the pesky bandage. Lance was having way too much fun watching him fail. 

The taller teenager was leaning casually against the counter next to the one Shiro was perched on, keeping himself occupied by tossing the bruise cream container into the air rhythmically. Lance checked his wrist as though he was wearing a watch. He sighed theatrically.

“Keeeith. Remember when I said that I wasn’t going to bed until you did?”

“I’m _well aware_.” Keith growled, fumbling once more with the awkward bandage. Lance raised an eyebrow, leaning over to better see what his “rival” was up to. Shiro could see him fighting a smirk. 

“Let Lance help you do it already,” Shiro chuckled. Keith wasn’t a night owl. Nor was he an early bird. He could function in high-stress situations on very little sleep, sure, but he wasn’t really himself when he did. Shiro had fond memories of watching a bleary Keith trying to get through his action-packed days at the Garrison before forcing the younger boy to take care of himself. The thought sparked something warm in Shiro’s chest, his hands suddenly itching to reach out and hug the boy.

And Lance, too. He really needed to give Lance a hug.

“Just making sure you were keeping it in mind,” Lance explained, passively picking at grime under his nails.

That was apparently the straw that broke the camel’s back. Keith slammed his hand against the counter nearest him, knocking a bottle of medical cream to the ground. Shiro pursed his lips. Keith and Lance really needed to wrap this up before Keith gave Lance a black eye.

Yes, Shiro spoke from experience. 

Yes, Adam had had _way_ too much fun telling all of his and Shiro’s friends at the Garrison all about it.

“Keith,” Lance asked, still trying to maintain a nonchalant air, “has anyone told you that you’re a toddler when you’re tired?”

“Yes,” Shiro answered. “Yes I have. And don’t tell him that. He hates it.”

Adam had enjoyed telling everyone all about the incident where Shiro found _that one_ out too.

Honestly, that man had too many embarrassing stories of Shiro.

“I am not a-” Keith stiffened suddenly. Shiro tensed with him at the pain in his chest, knowing that Keith had just thought of the same memories. Something in his face softened, and Keith relaxed with it. “Yeah, actually.”

Lance’s eyes widened at that, and he sucked in a harsh breath as he too caught up. “Shiro,” he guessed.

Sometimes Shiro forgot that it was _so much_ harder for his team. He at least knew they were physically okay, and that they were working on getting there mentally. They didn’t know anything about Shiro at this point: if he was okay, if he was safe, if he was _dead_ -

“Yeah. He used to tease me about it the next morning, saying that next time he’d have goldfish or applesauce for me or other stupid stuff. I always got angry with him, but now…” Keith bowed his head, silently holding the bandage out to Lance. Shiro’s eyes stung at the openness of Keith’s stance, the rawness of his emotions laid bare in his eyes and through his words.

Guilt and anger swirled in his gut. The longer he stayed trapped in this stupid Astral Plane the worse this was going to get; the more pain his team was going to be in, the more worry he was going to put them through, the more they were going to have to suffer through on their own.

Lance seemed to come to a similar conclusion regarding Keith, and he bit his lip as he reached forward to gently take the bandage from Keith and fix up his arm. 

“We’ll get him back,” he promised. Keith gave a tiny smile, nodding slightly. Lance smiled back. Shiro needed to find a tissue because _dammit they were coming together- Keith didn’t need to feel so alone now_.

Keith, true to his form, broke the silence with a sudden jaw-cracking yawn that had Shiro nearly falling off the counter from surprise and Lance laughing.

“Aaaaand that’s your cue to exit,” Lance chuckled, pushing Keith gently out of the medbay. “You need sleep, mullet.”

“What- but you-” 

“Have gotten plenty of sleep,” the Blue Paladin lied smoothly. Shiro ground his teeth worriedly. “I have things to do, and now so do you.”

“Huh?”

“Keith,” Lance said slowly, “you are going to get four vargas rest _minimum_ , and then you will spend the rest of today _resting_ and relearning what ‘self-care’ means with the others. Okay?”

Shiro fought a giggle.

Keith gave Lance an unimpressed look.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Begone, thot!” Lance called with a flourish, waving Keith off gently but firmly. Shiro stuffed a fist in his mouth. None of the boys would be able to hear him (duh), but 

It was the principle of the matter.

“...what?”

“I’ll explain when you’re older.”

“Lance, you can’t call your team leader a thot,” Shiro chuckled. 

Keith shook his head slightly, turning to walk out of the room. He paused at the door. “Hey, Lance?”

“Yeah man?”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

Shiro tore his eyes away from the bittersweet scene before him. The fact that it took him disappearing off the face of the universe to bring these two finally close made Shiro’s gut clench. He hated that he was the one to cause these boys enough pain that they finally reached out for each other.

Still, he couldn’t say that he hated the results. Keith needed someone to get him out of his own head, especially during skirmishes and training. Keith had a tendency to take any and all responsibility on his shoulders, much like Allura was doing right now. Lance could pull Keith out of that safety net and force Keith to accept the help of those around him, and force Keith to stay. Lance needed someone to keep him grounded on the field, to keep him steady in stressful situations. No one would be able to do that like Keith, especially when he went into lone wolf mode. 

Lance looked on after Keith’s retreating form, eyes betraying the worry he had for his new team leader, but relaxed features speaking volumes about how relieved he was that Keith was taken care of. Shiro hopped down from his perch soundlessly and walked over to stand next to Lance.

“Thank you,” he whispered. 

Lance heaved a sigh, running his hands down his face and sliding to a seated position on the floor.

“ _Dios_ ,” he breathed, bracing one of his elbows against his knee and leaning his head against the corresponding hand. Shiro chuckled, ruffling Lance’s hair with his flesh hand. If the situation had been normal, Lance’s hair would have been all over the place. It didn’t stir when Shiro did it now, though. He frowned before dropping his hand to his side, heaving a sigh of his own.

“You can say that again.”

***

So Lance never had time to sleep, apparently. Shiro found him walking casually down the halls, eyes tired and face drawn, but still sporting a smile and a skip to his step. 

Shiro had stopped briefly by Keith’s room after Lance finished putting some bruise cream on his elbow and a few darkening spots on his knees and then cleaned up the medbay. Shiro left Lance to go back to his own room before ducking into Keith’s room, chuckling softly as he was greeted with the sound of familiar soft snoring. The younger boy had collapsed in his bed, still wearing what he had been while he was training. Shiro yearned to take off Keith’s shoes- how many times had he gotten after the boy for wearing his shoes in bed? A smile tugged at his face. Some things never change.

It was then that he noticed the clock on the wall: _5:34_.

_Shit!_

Coran always got the castle up and running at 5:30.

Lance had already started.

He hadn’t had any time to sleep.

_Fuck._

Shiro gave Keith one last fond look, brushing a hand across his brow, murmuring a soft “I’m proud of you, Keith. Don’t forget that,” before skidding out of the room and rushing over to Lance’s room. Empty. His familiar blue pajamas were folded neatly on his freshly-made bed. The bed that had barely been used.

  
Alright, then where would Lance have gone?

Shiro didn’t know enough about Lance’s morning routine to guess. Did he shower? Eat? Train? Wander the halls? He had no idea.

Alright Shiro, think. He just spent basically his entire night awake dealing with defenders of the universe that had no idea how to take care of themselves. Now he has to run the Castle for a day.

What would he need?

**_Caffeine_ ** **,** Green rumbled pleasantly. Shiro laughed. Leave it to Pidge’s Lion to solve the mystery of a tired teen. 

“You’re the expert,” he shrugged before jogging down to the kitchen. Lo and behold, there was Lance, holding a light blue mug and staring at its contents as though it had personally wronged him. Shiro gave an amused huff at the sight, sliding to a stop at the entrance of the kitchen. “There you are!” he called, walking to Lance’s side.

Lance sighed heavily, looking at what Shiro now realized was some of Pidge’s extra strong coffee that she’d stashed in the kitchen a few pheobs back. He grimaced sympathetically. That stuff was _lethal_ \- it was hardly even coffee. It was concentrated to the point that it was just pure caffeine. Not that Lance didn’t need the boost… but _yeesh._

From the look of absolute offense and disgust on Lance’s face right now, he’d likely come to the same conclusion. 

“Well,” he said quietly to his mug, “it’ll be worth it in the long run.” Then, much to Shiro’s horror, Lance grabbed the mug in both hands and _chugged_ it like an alcoholic at happy hour. Shiro winced as Lance gagged quietly. “Nope. Not worth it. Ugh- how does she _drink_ this stuff?!” 

Shiro moved to lean against an adjacent counter as Lance quickly took care of his mug and reached desperately for some of the water pouches that Coran always kept stocked in one of the cabinets. He greedily sucked down five before relaxing contentedly. 

“We’re so outlawing that coffee from here on out,” Lance said, eyeing the package he’d retrieved with mistrust. “That’s just wrong.”

Shiro looked at the container with interest. He’d always wondered how Pidge managed to function with her train wreck of a sleep schedule. “I second the motion.”

***

**6:00 am**

Lance was on the bridge, trying to remember what temperature setting Coran used in the mornings. Up until this point, he’d always figured that the Castle temperature was a constant thing, never really changing.

Surprise surprise, there were not one, not four, but _thirty-nine_ options for temperature.

There weren’t that many vargas in a quintant! There were like, twenty. 

What the quiznak?

Lance looked at the control panel musingly, trying to Coran his way out of this.

“If I were a vibrantly mustached control freak what would I choose?”

Not that Coran was a control freak, at least, not that he was a control freak in a negative sense. The Altean liked things a certain way. Lance totally understood. He just wished that he’d thought to ask him what that way was.

Well, too late now. Suck it up, McClain. Figure it out.

“Uhhhh…” he said eloquently, going over all the options. From what he could tell, each option was maybe an Altean degree off from its neighbors (he and Pidge had been working on their Altean in their downtime), so it probably wouldn’t be too devastating if he got it wrong. He couldn’t really read beyond that.

But maybe he didn’t have to.

There were thirty-nine options, right? What if it was a cycle? Coran was always talking about how it was his duty as the castle caretaker to make sure the Paladins were safe and healthy and that they were ready for anything. Somewhere Lance had read that the best way to learn to adapt was to never fully adjust. Keep one’s environment constantly changing in minor ways. That way, the body would begin to see constant adjustment as its normal, and better acclimate when a serious environmental adjustment occurred. 

What if that’s what Coran was doing now? Lance knew that the constant planetary exploration was dangerously inconsistent for their systems, and somewhere in the back of his mind he’d always wondered how they hadn’t encountered more side effects from going in and out of extreme and opposing temperatures at an unpredictable rate.

Maybe this was how. 

Lance knew that 39 didn’t correspond with any time system that he’d learned so far, which was genius on Coran’s part. The Castle occupants were already accustomed to their own internal calendars, none of which would ever line up with this obscure number. If Coran made the Castle one subtly different temperature each day, they would have no way of tracking the temperature even though their bodies were learning to better acclimate to different environments.

Huh.

That’s… really cool. 

Lance looked at the list of choices, hoping to goodness that he was right with his theory. There wasn’t one selected… but maybe he could figure out what yester-quintant’s was…

Lance jogged to the back of the bridge, clicking on the temperature gauge located near the entrance. He found the button that loosely translated to “Temperature Log”, and pressed that. Then, he memorized the symbol that popped up. It didn’t look like anything remotely similar to the Earthen numeric system, but it was still pretty distinct. Lance closed the tab he’d opened and jogged back to the control panel and found the symbol. It was in the middle of the third column- there were fourteen columns with three in each. Lance selected the option below it, and the panel flashed green before returning to the home screen with all the other castle controls. 

Lance blinked. Was it really that easy?

Okay, easy was relative. That was an awful lot of brainpower to use for a temperature change.

But still, he’d done it!

Maybe he could actually do this.

Lance looked over the rest of the options on the screen. There was one with the words… Cycle? Dairy- no wait _Daily_ Cycle! Coran had the Castle on a daily cycle that controlled the lights so the Paladins’ circadian rhythm wouldn’t be thrown off. There were two circular shapes that he could change: one had twenty dots around it, the other had twenty-four.

What were thos-

Oh. 

Lance turned to the one on his left- the one with twenty-four dots and selected the sixth on from the top, hoping that they were set up like a basic clock. The corresponding Altean clock on the right adjusted so that it’s selected area was at the eight. Lance wasn’t entirely certain how those two lined up, but he wasn’t going to bother with the logistics because immediately, the lights around him brightened slightly, a distant humming cluing him into the rest of the Castle waking up slowly.

Lance beamed at the control panel, thrilled at his success.

Yeah. This would go fine.

**7:00 am**

_Things were definitely not fine_.

Lance ran down the hallway, skidding around a corner and leaping down the steps two at a time. 

The mice had stolen his master key. 

The key that he’d spent the better part of a varga searching for. The key that he’d dug around in cabinets full of _quiznak knows what_ and absolutely covered in dust. He’d had to go back then, after _finding_ the stupid key to clean the cabinets because no way was he leaving them in that state- not when he was in charge, no sir- and left the key in his room next to Pidge’s laptop.

When he’d returned to his room, feeling quite satisfied that he’d managed to accomplish so much, the key had been gone. There hadn’t been any evidence that it had even been in his room to begin with. Lance tore his room apart looking for it before he spied a tuft of Chulatt’s fur on top of Pidge’s laptop. 

_What the…?_

Lance had then opened his door violently, looking down to his right and locking eyes with four petrified mice holding a comically proportioned key between them.

“Well well well,” he’d said, crouching down to better see them, “it would appear that we’re at an impasse.”

Platt had nodded vigorously, Chuchule quickly stamping on the large mouse’s foot. Plachu then placed themselves in front of the key, staring up at Lance defiantly. 

“Don’t do this,” Lance had warned. “You won’t win.”

Plachu then gave a squeak that could only have translated to “bet” before giving a single stomp that signaled all of the mice to take off down the hallway.

So that’s how Lance found himself nearly tripping down the stairs as he raced after the small mammals. He jumped to the ground, just barely missing the mass of fur as it sped off. Lance disguised a delighted laugh with a growl. 

“Submit now!” he called down the hall. “I’ve got you now!” 

“Lance?” Keith asked blearily from his doorway. “What are you doing?” 

“Sorry, Keith!” Lance yelped as he streaked by. “Go back to sleep! The situation is under control!”

Keith blinked once before shrugging and heading back into his room.

Lance dodged around a blanket ensconced Pidge as she shuffled down the hall. “I’ll be in Hunk’s room,” she muttered, not bothering to look at Lance when she stumbled by.

“Noted!” he confirmed, sliding to a stop as he realized that he’d lost sight of the mice. “Well that’s not good; hey Pidge-!”

“The mice went left. Leave me be.”

“You’re the best! Sleep well!”

“Fuck you.”

“Love you too, Pigeon!” Lance laughed as he booked it down the hallway, just barely catching sight of a small blue shape diving after its friends into a closet. “I’ve got you now!” 

Lance was greeted with a dark room, barely larger than a cryopod, entirely comprised of shelves stacked high with linens, pillows and blankets not unlike the ones that he and Hunk had found in the common room. His eyes widened with delight.

“You guys are geniuses!” he cried, crouching and holding a hand to the mice to hop onto. They obliged, and Lance set them on his shoulder carefully, taking back his key and sliding it into his pocket for later. “You know what, you’ve given me an idea.”

**8:00 am**

The Castle systems were fully up and running by the time that Lance finished his scheme. First, he’d grabbed all the blankets he could reasonably take with him (it took two trips- he was man enough to admit it) to the common room and divided them amongst the couches. Then, he selected the largest blanket and took it back with him to the closet. He placed seven cushy pillows in the center of the blanket and then grasped its four corners like a very large, very comfy, hacky sack and dragged it to the common room, spreading the pillows out as best as he could, placing some on the floor. After determining that it didn’t look quite full enough, Lance went back with the same blanket and did the same thing, this time also including four more fuzzy blankets with six more pillows and hauling his prizes back to the common room. He spread the large blanket between the couches on the floor, filling the empty space with more folded blankets and even more pillows.

“Perfect,” he decided, placing his hands on his hips. “Now then, to dim the lights-” the lights suddenly dimmed.

Lance’s eyes widened. No way. No quiznaking way.

“Lights out!” He called tentatively, not quite believing this. The lights cut out instantaneously. “The castle has voice controls?!” Why hadn’t he known this?!- the pranks he could have pu-

...That’s probably why he didn’t know. Makes sense.

“Lights dimmed, please.” Manners were important. The lights raised slightly, enough that Lance could see the room clearly, but not too much that Lance wouldn’t have been able to nap there if he wanted.

Even with the caffeine still coursing through his system- were his hands supposed to be shaking?- and keeping his head straight (haha- straight, good one, Lance), a nap sounded _amazing_.

Naps are for the weak. You have a job to do. 

This room was missing something vital: refreshments.

Lance checked the time: _8:36._ He had a little under a half varga or so- if a varga was just barely longer than a human hour, then his timings were going to be a little off for whenever one of them reached their four varga minimum ( _Dios,_ he really should have stuck to the Earthen time system and saved himself the headache)- before Hunk emerged to make breakfast for himself and the team.

That is, if Lance didn’t beat him to it.

**9:00 am**

Lance was a mess.

The kitchen was a mess.

His schedule was a mess.

Frankly, at this point, so was his life but who was keeping track?

Not Lance, certainly not.

He was choosing to focus on the fact that _he’d done it._ Was it quite to Hunk’s level? No, but Hunk was welcome to make lunch if he felt so inclined. Lance had opted to make something easy and basic for his friends: he made biscuits. 

They weren’t really a normal color- Lance hadn’t had bright blue food since Veronica’s Percy Jackson phase (he loved the books too, and had been an avid lobbier for that blue feast; he just didn’t need any of the others finding out. Pidge already thought he was an eccentric fanboy as it was). 

To help with the odd color, Lance went into Hunk’s stash of fruits and whatnot and found some jam Hunk had been given after a very lovely celebratory banquet. Hunk had refused to leave until he spoke to the chef and told him how wonderful the food was, especially the dark purple jam that Hunk and Lance had been basically obsessed with the whole meal- Hunk being a chef with an amazing palette and lust for knowledge, and Lance being a jam enthusiast. 

With the simple breakfast (placed in a special container that would keep the jam cool and the biscuits warm while still letting their buttery scent permeate the room) carefully placed in the common room for when his friends got hungry, Lance also found the last of their cocoa reserves and mixed them with some of Kaltenecker’s freshly warmed milk.

After a little bit of digging, Lance also managed to find some more of those adorable color-coded dishes, this time thermoses. 

Sweet.

Lance filled each of the five thermoses (he would have some later, he promised himself), laughing at the fact that he also managed to find a pink one and an orange one- like how _perfect_ was that?

In his opinion, this couldn’t have worked out better if someone had sat down and written a fanfic on his life, carefully orchestrating this moment for environmental development and filler for when her true plot began.

What a thought.

Lance looked down at his poor jacket and all the stains covering his shirt- many of which he had no idea of their origin. 

Well, that was unacceptable.

Lance checked the time: _9:15_. 

Awesome- he had time to clean himself up while the others started milling about. 

Lance made a quick stop to his room to grab a separate pair of jeans and a fresh t-shirt, also reaching to grab a pen (his sparkly blue- duh) and Pidge’s laptop. Lance looked down the hallway as he emerged from his room, noting the loud snoring still coming from Hunk’s room and the quiet breathing he could hear next door before traipsing over to Shiro’s room. He needed some supplies. Shiro thought his stash of post-it notes was a secret, but Lance was more observant than his team gave him credit for. No one else in on the team had handwriting like Shiro- an even mix of cursive and print that made Lance grin whenever he found a random post-it note on the training deck, or on the bridge giving helpful warnings like “ _Ask Coran before pressing”_ or “ _Don’t touch”_ and then below it _“Seriously Lance: DON’T TOUCH”_.

The fact that he didn’t think Lance knew that Shiro had this collection was adorable. 

Also. Hiding it under his mattress? _Are you six?_

Lance smirked at his joke. Leap year babies, man. Leap year babies.

Lance grabbed a pad shaped like cat paws and set Pidge’s laptop on Shiro’s bed. “Keep this safe for me?” he asked the silence. Something warm inside him shifted, Lance feeling strangely reassred.

Odd.

Lance shrugged, taking his collection with him to the common room. Quickly, Lance scrawled out a quick note of “ _Enjoy:)”_ and stuck it to the container holding his biscuits and jam. After a moment of thinking, Lance grabbed a second sticky note and jotted down “ _Hunk- Kitchen is now yours. Do as you wish <3” _.

Satisfied with his set-up, Lance then took his clothes with him to the bathroom and turned the water on hot, watching with quiet glee as steam filled the room. 

After this, he could start the real work. 

***

Shiro stopped in front of the bathroom door, suddenly at a loss as to what to do. He’d been following Lance all morning, watching fondly as the teen worked through the Castle and got everything up and running.

Shiro had tested out his connection again in his room. Lance had broken into his stash (all the Lions had been in Shiro’s head, laughing at the sound he made when Lance casually lifted up his mattress and pulled out a pad of post-its) before placing Pidge’s confiscated laptop on his desk with a simple “keep this safe for me?”

“Of course,” Shiro’d replied. Then, he’d thought for a moment, looking at his hand thoughtfully. Shiro had then placed his hand on Lance’s shoulder, saying “Of course. It will be fine.”

To Shiro’s complete delight, Lance’s shoulders then had visibly relaxed and a gentle smile graced his features, eyes filling with bemused happiness. 

_Huh._

Shiro now walked down the halls, thinking over everything he had figured out so far. 

Which, for the record, was nothing. All he knew was that whenever he made contact with Lance, something magicky happened and Lance could understand Shiro. Whether or not he could actually hear Shiro was an entirely different situation. Maybe it was more of a sixth sense sort of thing. He also knew that this all started when he and Lance had that weird spark pass between them last night (this morning. Whatever). 

  
  


The fact that so much happened in less than twelve hours somewhat boggled Shiro. Speaking of the time, Lance had gotten the entire team in bed between 11:00 pm and 5:30 am. That meant that, following the time tables, Shiro’s friends would begin roaming about any tic now. 

Perfect. 

Shiro figured that this was a perfect time to test his connection theory. Hunk and Pidge were likely going to migrate together to the common room to lounge and nap periodically, Hunk probably dragging Pidge to keep him company if he chose to do any cooking for lunch.

On that note, Shiro had had no idea that Lance could cook. The ease with which he had moved around the kitchen, the quiet delight in his eyes as he chuckled at the mess he’d made of himself and his space while making the biscuits was fascinating to the older spectator. It wasn’t often he saw Lance so content, so focused.

So carefree.

Shiro was pulled out of his thoughts as he passed through the door to the lounge. Hunk and Pidge were sitting on the couch with pillows surrounding them and a blanket shrouding them. Hunk was happily munching on a bright blue biscuit with jam in the center. Pidge was slumped against him, a half-eaten biscuit still in her hands and jam slathered across her mouth. Shiro’s mouth quirked in a fond grin at the (frankly adorable) site.

Shiro walked over as Hunk finished chewing his breakfast, reaching carefully for a thermos (if he moved wrong, Pidge would slide to the floor. She wouldn’t wake, but still) and taking a luxurious sip. His eyes slid closed contentedly and he leaned back with a sigh, holding the yellow thermos securely at his side while his other arm supported Pidge, getting her more comfortably situated against his shoulder.

Pursing his lip, Shiro elected then to sit down on the ground next to Hunk’s leg, below a softly snoring Pidge. The pillow he sat upon didn’t give at all, leaving no way for the outside world to know that he was there, and Shiro unable to feel any of its comfort.

“Well, Hunk,” Shiro said softly, tapping Hunk’s leg, “how do you feel about helping me solve a theory?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really planned to get through my plot point here, but it was already 28 pages on my doc and I just couldn’t justify the seizure my chromebook was going through (it has this lovely little habit of constantly resetting itself or not saving changes on my GOOGLE DRIVE LORD if I get over twenty pages or so. My 102 page oneshot was absolute MURDER on my patience) to do it. Plus, then it would have been rushed and I really do try to give you all at least palatable work.
> 
> Also I’m fairly certain my writing style changed at least three times writing this whoops.
> 
> Once I get through this plot point, then the actual interesting stuff will start. Until then, enjoy my fluff and boring exposition and, if you get bored, my other work until I reemerge.
> 
> Peasant out!


	10. Plan Seagull

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thrilling conclusion to Lance’s Day In Charge.  
> Shiro has some questions and concerns  
> Lance made a friend  
> And the team is Doing Their Best (tm) to keep up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOSH HI I’M SO SORRY GUYS  
> Hi it’s been a while.  
> I’ll be honest I don’t have an excuse other than a new fic because I’m ridiculous, and and inability to juggle school right now.  
> Ya girl is living the jr lifestyle and it is certainly something.  
> ANYWAY  
> To make up for the wait, I made myself finally wrap up this plot point so we can get the action going next time!  
> I’ve got the whole story planned out. I’m very excited.
> 
> Also- shoutout to the person that commented “S H E E T G H O S T SHIRO” or however they phrased it. Their comment made my day and also gave me an idea. You’ll see what I mean.
> 
> Please note that I wrote the majority of this from 10pm to 1am across several nights. I tried to catch all the errors, but I definitely didn’t and I’m sorry in advance.
> 
> I don’t own anything that you like! 
> 
> Enjoy:)

**_Shiro_ **

Shiro really wasn’t sure what he hoped to accomplish here. 

The majority of him was very sure that nothing would come of this. In fact, he was certain of it.

But still. If Shiro could reach the resident geniuses, maybe they could help him get back to his team. 

Shiro stared up at Hunk from his spot on the floor, unsure of how to proceed. 

Did he… touch him? Speak to him?

“Uh,” Shiro started uncertainly. “I’m… I’m not sure what to do here, guys.” 

Pidge mumbled grumpily in her sleep, burrowing deeper into her blanket burrow. Hunk chuckled, adjusting quickly to make sure he didn’t spill anything on her as she wiggled. 

“Alright, then,” Shiro breathed, reaching through Hunk’s exposed knee, “here goes nothing.”

Phasing through things was weird at best. Shiro could feel the subject he was touching, just not physically. It was like… like plunging his hand into a box of cold air. He knew it was cold air, could feel the difference in temperature, but couldn’t physically grasp the air. 

Touching a  _ person _ was like plunging his hand into warm air: Kind of weird, a little uncomfortable, but at the same time strangely comforting.

Shiro watched Hunk’s face closely as he bit into another blue biscuit for any sign of recognition or confusion. He got excited for a moment as Hunk’s eyes widened dramatically, though that faded as the broad-shouldered teen poked Pidge with a gentle hand and a half laugh.

“Keep trying to tickle me and I’ll leave you to be your own pillow.”

“Rude,” she grumbled. 

Shiro sighed, but didn’t move his hand.

“Alright, maybe it’s a verbal thing. Hunk, buddy? Can you hear me?”

He was met with more munching. 

“Okay, Shiro, think. What do you do with Lance?”

**_Has Paladin gotten the spark to happen?_ ** Green questioned, startling the living daylights out of Shiro.

“ _ Wha _ \- no. No, I haven’t.”

**_Maybe that’s the issue?_ ** Yellow joined gently.

“I don’t suppose there’s anything you can do on your end, is there?”

**_No. Lions don’t have that ability_ ** , Green answered.

**_Try focusing on one word. Maybe Yellow Paladin will be able to feel then_ ** , Red suggested.

“I can do that. What should I focus on?”

**_Anything_ ** .

_ Very helpful, Red. _

Shiro thought for a moment.

“Seagulls.”

**_What is a seagull?_ ** Green inquired eagerly.

**_Oh! It is a small white bird commonly found near large bodies of water on Earth. They are very loud and steal food from humans._ **

“Did Lance teach you that?” 

**_Yes, Red Paladin did,_ ** Blue responded smugly.

**_They sound awful_ ** .

“Yeah, Red, they kind of are,” Shiro chuckled. “Let’s see if this works.”

*******

**10:00 am**

**_Lance_ **

Lance stepped out of the bathroom, pulling on a warm sweatshirt he and Pidge had found in lieu of his typical jacket. Today wasn’t really about fashion; it was about comfort. It was also for this reason that Lance put his shoes away and was wearing some very comfy, very  _ fuzzy _ socks.

Now he had to do actual work.

_ Blegh _ .

“Well, I can’t do any cleaning or room maintenance until the others are up and about,” Lance mused, running a hand through his still-damp bangs. “But I can take care of the bridge and stuff, right?”

No one answered. Obviously. 

But whatever.

“Alright, guys,” Lance turned to the mice waiting patiently on the floor near his socked feet. “Care to show this confused Red Paladin where Coran keeps his cleaning supplies?” 

Plachu nodded eagerly, the others following energetically. 

“Awesome. Hop up.” Lance crouched down, holding his hands in front of him so that the mice could climb aboard them. He then gently maneuvered them into the large front pocket of his sweatshirt (another large piece of reasoning for him wearing the oversized garment). Plachu hung back on Lance’s hand, pointing up towards the Paladin’s shoulder. “You got it,” he grinned, raising the mouse up to rest on his shoulder. “Lead the way.”

***

One of these days, Lance really needed to talk with Allura and Coran about labeling.

“Why?” you ask?

That question would be better addressed to the  _ gaping hole _ in the middle of the flight of stairs Lance had tripped down.

He was going to blame Platt. 

Lance was fine, as were all the mice (Lance had been lucky enough to twist midair and land on his back, so the mice were all good). 

The stairs, however, were decidedly  _ not _ .

See, Lance had made it to one of Coran’s handy-dandy cleaning closets and grabbed everything the mice pointed to. Plachu ran down his arm to dart into Lance’s sweatshirt to join the other mice, and then Lance was on his way with his arms laden with supplies that would hopefully do  _ something _ .

And then Lance slipped.

He’d been jittery all morning (maybe he shouldn't have had that caffeine nightmare?). His hands hadn’t really stopped shaking once, and his leg kept twitching at random. If he was standing still, a muscle in his left thigh would pulse and flex without his consent.

Up to that point, everything had been fine. He ignored the tics, they ignored him.

But  _ noooooo~ _ . He just  _ had _ to eat  _ shit _ on the stairs.

One minute Lance was bopping his way down the steps, ready to skedaddle over to the medbay and lower-level restroom to see if anything needed immediate attention. From there he’d planned to head to Hunk and Pidge’s room, maybe the Little Paladin’s room on that floor if enough of his friends were up and about by then and weren’t using it.

He needed to take care of bedding, that much he knew. Maybe towels.

The next thing he knew, Lance was tossing everything in his hands to the side in favor of rotating to fall the rest of the way down on his back.

Did it hurt? Yes.

Did he need a minute before getting up again? Hell yes (anyone else notice that Wired Lance inspired a lot more cussing? His mama was going to  _ kill _ him.)

But he was fine.

No harm done.

_ And then Lance looked up _ .

One of the chemicals Lance had been carrying had burst upon impact with the fifth step down, bursting forth in a small explosion of bright orange liquid. It sat, bubbling, as Lance stared on in shock.

He looked down at the mice peeking out of his pocket for answers.

“What even  _ is _ that stuff?!”

Chuchule  _ shrugged _ .

“You… you guys didn’t know what I was grabbing either?!”

He got four sheepish nods of affirmation.

_ Madre de Dios. _

“When were you going to tell me this?”

The unspoken “ _ Never?” _ was enough to have Lance emotionally aware enough to get back on his feet. His back twinged and groaned in protest, but he shoved it aside in favor of jogging up the stairs to stare at the ever-deepening hole in the castle steps.

“Well,” Lance said, placing a hand on his hip, “on the bright side, we now know to  _ never  _ use this thing. Like,  _ ever _ . On the downside, I have no idea how to clean this.”

Chulatt patted Lance’s wrist gently where it rested near the large pocket. 

“Hm?”

Chulatt took that as an invitation, scurrying up the tie-dye (yes his sweatshirt was tie-dye  _ deal with it, Keith, I like the colors- _ ) sleeve to rest on Lance’s shoulder like Plachu had earlier. 

“Please tell me you have a solution; I’m afraid to touch the stuff.”

Chulatt, dear sweet angel that the mouse was, nodded determinedly and pointed down the direction Lance had been going.

They managed to make it down the rest of the stairs without incident, for which Lance was very grateful. Chulatt led him and the mice to another hidden closet.

“Chulatt, I’m not sure this is the answer. We were just  _ at _ one of these; I doubt we find anything that any of us can identify-”

The door opened to reveal a room  _ wall to wall  _ with cleaning bots.

“Woah,” Lance finished, staring wide-eyed at his salvation. “Chulatt, you’re my new favorite pers-uh,  _ mouse _ .” The mouse wasn’t exactly thrilled with this, stomping on Lance’s shoulder grumpily. Lance leveled a calm look with the mouse. “Why are you mad? We literally live with  _ Hunk _ ; what’d you expect?”

That mostly appeased all four mice, three of which were still cranky at not being Lance’s favorite.

“Okay! Moving on!” Lance clapped his hands together, preparing to step into the room. “Who here knows how to start one of these things?”

***

Fun fact: when starting up a cleaning bot, don’t let the mice decide which button to press when. 

On the bright side, Lance figured out where the incinerator room was and how to use it.

On the downside, they were down a cleaning robot.

Whoops.

It didn’t take long, however, to figure things out from there. Lance was grateful for that because it meant that he didn’t have to go and wake up Coran because technology had failed him.

The large robot in front of Lance whirred to life, eyes lighting a pleasing blue as the six-foot frame unfolded to its full height. Lance gulped, stepping back out of the doorway as it came barreling out into the corridor.

“It  _ took _ you long enough!” it suddenly bellowed. “Coran, need I rem-”

“ _ Will you be quiet?! _ ” Lance hissed, clapping his hands over the robot’s speaker. It was a rounded rectangle on the robot’s “face” that lit up yellow whenever it spoke. The robot was huge, with shoulders wider than Hunk or Shiro’s, and a light magenta body with wheels where legs should have been.

In an odd way, the robot reminded Lance of a character from that really old movie  _ Robots _ with Robin Williams. 

_ Ahhh _ , what a classic.

“Who in quiznak are you?!” the robot gasped, affronted at having been interrupted.

“Uh, I’m Lance? Blue-  _ whoops _ , Red- Red Paladin of Voltron?”

“Are you asking me or telling?” it- they?- snarked. If they had eyebrows, Lance was very sure that one would be raised.

“Telling? Wait- I-  _ hang on _ .” Lance waved his hands around trying to get a grip on the situation. “I am Lance McClain, the Red Paladin of Voltron.”

The robot nodded. They blinked.

Lance blinked expectantly.

They stared on passively.

Lance fought the urge to tap his toes or pop his wrists.

The castle filtration system clicked on, Lance able to hear it in the wall next to him.

Lance looked down at his feet, rocking back and forth idly.

The robot’s eyes flickered.

Lance turned to the side briefly, looking back up at the robot. “And you are…?”

“Oh, I thought you’d  _ never  _ ask! Honestly, aliens these days-”  _ ‘scuse you?!  _ Lance mentally snarked “- I would have thought that Coran would teach you young ones better than this. I am Shinaquiz Altea Betabot Prime, head of all Castle maintenance and repair services. My sole purpose is to serve the royalty of Altea, current monarch being Princess Allura, and any and all Paladins of Voltron should they need my services. I was created at the dawn of the Altean empire with the task of being constantly available to the citizens so that the Altean species didn’t fall prey to the ‘haves’ and ‘have nots’ debacle that so many other civilizations have been ruined by. There are many others like me, which you have likely been made aware of by finding me. I have no flaws, no quirks, and no errors, making me the most sophisticated robot ever developed. I also am capable of teaching and translating over a quadrillion dialects and scripts as well as containing an extensive history in my memory banks. How may I serve you today, Red Paladin?” they rattled off. 

Lance took a moment to process. “You’ve been on the Castle this  _ entire  _ time?”

The robot blinked, Lance taken aback by their deadpan tone. “Are all the Paladins this quick? Yes, Red Paladin, I’ve been here on the Castle assisting the Palace Advisor with Castle upkeep.”

“Okay then, Shi- Shiniquoa- Can I call you Quiz?” The robot nodded imperiously. “Okay. Thanks, Quiz. Uh, so, why don’t you get the other… Altean Betablops to help?”

“Because I require  _ no  _ assistance, Red Paladin. Have you not been listening? I am Shinaquiz Altea Beta _ bot _ Prime. I am top of the line.”

“But if that’s true, why is Coran still helping?” Lance countered, trying to compensate for the height difference between him and the large magenta frame with confidence.

“Because he’s a control freak.” Lance barely contained a snort of laughter at their bluntness.

“Okay, fair.”

“Now, what exactly do you need of me, Red Paladin? I haven’t spoken to any of the new Paladins yet.”

“To be totally honest, none of us knew you were even here.”

“What, you just  _ assumed _ that Coran kept this entire ship running on his own?”

“Yes? I mean, no one really knows what he does in his free time, so-”

“You’re adorable, Red Paladin, truly. Coran wouldn’t last a  _ day  _ without me. None of you would.”

“Well, I’m glad that you brought that up-”

“Why are you the one greeting me today and not Coran?”

“Uh, funny story-”

“Your heart rate is elevated, eyes dilated, hands trembling slightly- You have quite a bit of caffeine in your system, don’t you, Paladin? You’re obviously exhausted, yet I have yet to see anyone else check up on you or even hear any sort of movement about the Castle. You are doing this entirely on your own, and you are severely not prepared. What exactly are you up to?”

“They’ve not been sleeping,” Lance suddenly blurted out before Quiz could continue berating him.

“Furthermo-” Quiz paused. “Pardon?”

“Coran. He’s not been sleeping. Or Allura, or Keith, or Hunk, or Pidge.”

Quiz did the math, Lance able to see when the question hit. 

“What about the Black Paladin? I’ve heard no news from him.”

“Shiro? I- Coran never told you?”

“All I know of you Paladins is that Zarkon has been defeated. Coran never explained why he was so upset about it.”

“Sounds like Coran,” Lance muttered. “Shiro’s… on hiatus?”

_ What a dumb way of phrasing. _

Somewhere in the castle, Red was laughing at him. She’d been doing that more and more, reacting to Lance’s thoughts. Every now and then she’d respond like she had earlier when Lance found Keith. But not often.

_ Hey, Gorgeous. What gives?  _ Red didn’t answer. It was fine- Lance wasn’t bitter. 

Nope. Not bitter. 

He didn’t miss Blue’s conversation.

_ Nooooope _ .

“That is why the Castle has been quiet, isn’t it?” Quiz asked quietly. Lance nodded mutely, looking away.

“I… yeah. I guess it is.”

“Why are you here, Red Paladin?” Quiz looked at Lance with a surprisingly sentient tilt to their metal head.

“Oh! Oh, that. Um…” Lance rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.  _ “Ikindaburnedaholeinthestairsandhavenoideahowtofixit-” _

“Paladin, I’m a betabot, not a translator.”

“Didn’t you say that you speak like a quadr-”

“ _ As you were saying.” _

Lance laughed quietly. “Uh… yeah. I kind of burned a hole in the stairs with a random chemical?”

“What chemical.” Quiz didn’t pose it as a question. Lance looked at his feet.

“...how willing are you to entertain a hypothetical question?”

“You have no idea which one it was, do you?”

“Hypothetically? Yes.”

“Well, I can’t properly aid you if I don’t know what chemical caused the disas- when did the mice get here?” Quiz interrupted themself, turning both their and Lance’s attention to the corridor Lance had come from, dragging a half destroyed container in their paws.

“I’ll do you one better,” Lance said, not once turning his attention away from the mice, “when did the mice _ leave? _ ” 

Chulatt shrugged helpfully, offering their prize to Lance and Quiz.

“Did you grab the chemical bottle?” Lance asked incredulously. Chuchule nodded vigorously.

“Snitch,” Quiz deadpanned. Lance turned to the cleaning bot with his hands on his hips.

“I thought you  _ wanted _ to know what chemical I spill- er,  _ was _ spilled- on the steps!”

“It’s the principle of the matter, Red Paladin.” Platt stuck out a small pink tongue at Quiz. “Alright, that’s enough, you nosy nofreblets,” they asserted. “I’ll take care of your Red Paladin. Shoo!”

“You don’t want their help?”

“How exactly did you find this chemical?” Quiz gestured pointedly to the still slightly sizzling bottle on the ground. 

“Touchè.”

***   
  


“Good quiznak, Paladin!” Quiz griped, looking at the ever-deepening hole in the stairs. Lance was beginning to worry that it was going to reach all the way to open space at this point.

Coran was going to  _ kill  _ him.

“Surprise?”

“Who in Zorklebob agreed to let you run the Castle for a quintant?! I can’t believe Coran would do so, sensible Altean that he is! Honestly, Red Paladin, are you  _ trying  _ to make a mess of yourself?!”

“It’s not like I  _ planned _ to fall down the steps!” Lance’s patience was wearing thin. He knew that Quiz meant no harm. He  _ knew  _ that.

But dammit if he wasn’t tired of hearing things like it.

“You astound me, Red Paladin, truly. What exactly was your plan?”

“I didn’t have a plan.”

“ _ Clearly _ ,” they scoffed. “A vacuuming  _ disk _ would be able to tell that. However, you aren’t helping your case here. How in all the mighty Altea were you going to run the Castle with no plan, and no common sense to aid you?!”

“Hey no-”

“‘Oh, don’t worry!’” Quiz chirped, Lance realizing that the robot likely meant it as an imitation of him. “‘I’m a Paladin of Voltron! I don’t  _ need _ to think about what I’m doing so long as I do my best and use the power of friendship! I don’t need to ask for help, or learn about my surroundings!’-”

“That’s not what’s going on her-”

“And then you  _ grab random containers _ and just… what? Hope the mice know more than you? Why are you not waiting for one of the more qualified members of this team to do it? Clearly you’re not in your element, so-”

“I’m not down here because I want to be,” Lance defended, crossing his arms as a sort of physical comfort for himself.

Is this why Keith did it?

Huh.

“Then why bother?”

“ _ Because I can’t do anything else! _ ” Lance snapped, uncaring of how Quiz froze in surprise.

“Paladin-”

“No, just- just leave it. I’m sorry I snapped.” Lance stuffed his hands in his pocket, trying to decide if he could sneak over to the kitchen and make more coffee. 

“Paladin,” Quiz said sternly, “you are in over your head. I don’t know what exactly is going on with your team, but you causing a disaster while they sort themselves out is not the way to fix this.”

“I… I’m flying blind here,” Lance admitted quietly. 

“Leave this”-Quiz gestured to the hole-“to me. I will do my typical rounds. Coran would have had me doing this regardless or your… mess-”

“Excuse you I am doing  _ fine- _ ”

“ _ In the meantime, _ you can take care of any menial tasks Coran normally does if you must. Feel free to come to me with questions. No doubt you will have many.” 

“I guarantee you aren’t this rude to Coran.” Pidge was  _ never _ going to be allowed near them. They were too similar. Lance glared goodnaturedly up at Quiz.

“Coran doesn’t burn gaping holes into my steps,” they snarked.

“You know, I’m feeling a little attacked right now.”

“Leave me be, Paladin. No doubt you have plenty of other things to do.”

“I leave because I wish to. Not because you said so. I’m a strong, independent Paladin who don’t need no betablop.” Lance gave a final barking laugh before taking off back up the stairs, Quiz’s indignant response following him.

“It is beta _ bot _ and you know it!”

*******

**_Shiro_ **

**_Slightly earlier_ **

So Plan Seagull was a bust. 

Pidge hadn’t moved when Shiro placed a gentle hand in her hair, nor Hunk when he poked the Yellow Paladin’s nose. Shiro checked the time-  _ 9:15. _

_ Allura should be up and about soon. Coran too.  _

As though on cue, Allura floated into the room, Hunk calling a cheery “Good morning!” that was happily returned. Pidge garbled a “ ‘lo Allura” that had both Shiro and Allura snorting fondly. The Altean gracefully dropped down onto the couch adjacent Hunk and Pidge. 

“Did you two do this?” she asked, noting the pillows and blankets decorating the room. 

“Nope.” Hunk adjusted Pidge so she was leaning against a pillow. The sleepy teen grumbled angrily as she was disturbed. Hunk grabbed another blanket and draped it over her head, much like a parrot and a sheet over it’s cage. Shiro smirked as Pidge quieted immediately. Hunk huffed a laugh before leaning forward and grabbing the small note Lance had left to show it to Allura. “This is all Lance.”

“I didn’t know Lance could bake,” Allura commented.

“I’ll be honest; neither did I.” Allura’s head snapped up at Hunk’s confession. The larger teen looked away almost guiltily. 

“Hunk…” Allura started uncertainly, carefully grabbing a pink thermos and gently spreading jam on a bright blue biscuit, “it’s not your job to know everything about everyone. You know as well as I do that Lance didn’t keep this to himself to hurt anyone; he likely knew how much you enjoyed the kitchen and didn’t want to intrude on your passion.”

Hunk smiled gratefully at the princess. “Sounds like him,” he chuckled quietly. “How’d you sleep?”

“I slept quite well!” Allura exclaimed, practically sparkling. Shiro walked over towards Hunk, hopping up on the arm of the couch he and Pidge were on. Allura looked better- her eyes were brighter, hair pulled back in a high ponytail that bounced happily when she spoke. She still looked drawn, still looked weary with war, but it was almost entirely overtaken by the hope settled in her shoulders and the pride in her grin. “Lance was right: we needed this.”

“Speaking of,” a voice called from the doorway, “has anyone heard from number three?”

“Good morning, Coran!” Hunk called cheerily. Allura echoed it just as excitedly. The older Altean smiled as he walked into the room to settle next to Allura. He chose a fluffy blanket and draped it carefully over the two of them. Allura sighed happily, handing Coran his orange thermos before snuggling back contentedly. 

Shiro looked around the group with no small amount of pride. There was anger there too, and bitterness. And guilt.

And loneliness.

So,  _ so _ much loneliness. 

He missed his team. Missed their smiles. Their touch. Missed their questions and jokes and comments and complaints.

He wanted to go back. Wanted to tell them how sorry he was for leaving. It didn’t matter that this wasn’t really his fault- Shiro was still the reason this had happened. He was the reason Voltron had nearly lost itself.

He needed to go back.

_ Please _ .

“Coran, where have you been recently? We rarely see you anymore,” Hunk commented.

“Do we really have to have a conversation right now?” Pidge complained, still beneath the blanket. “You guys are noisy.”

“Don’t be a grump, Pidge,” Allura laughed.

“ _ Fiiiiine _ . Coran: where the fuck have you been?” 

Shiro groaned, dropping his head in his hands.

“And what happened to your wrist?” Hunk asked suddenly. The lump next him twitched. 

“What’s wrong with his wrist?” Pidge echoed. “I can’t see.”

“Because you’re under a blanket,” Hunk reminded her patiently.

“I refuse to emerge. Describe it.”

“It’s wrapped in gauze.”

“What the  _ fuck _ happened, Coran?!” the lump exclaimed. Pidge’s head poked up suddenly as she ripped the blanket off. Her hair stuck out in all directions in a very endearing way that all the younger Paladins had learned to pull off far too easily in Shiro’s opinion. She glared at Hunk’s bemused smirk. “I only emerged for a biscuit.” In illustration, the youngest Paladin pointedly snatched a blue biscuit and munched on it aggressively.

“I don't know, Pidge, you were pretty adamant before.”

“Maybe I don’t want to-” 

“ _ As Hunk was saying _ ,” Allura intervened evenly, “Coran, what happened to your wrist?”

“Oh! Well, I tripped,” the advisor admitted sheepishly.

“That’s a lie and you know it!” Shiro called from his perch, wondering if it was improper for the (former?) leader of Voltron to be swinging his legs back and forth.

“Bullshit,” Pidge deadpanned. Shiro whipped towards her in surprise. Had she heard him?

“Pidge!” Allura chastised. 

“Woah there, Pidge,” Hunk soothed. “You can’t just call Coran a liar-”

Shiro looked on with interest, trying to figure out what had clued the genius in. 

Maybe he should try Plan Seagull again.

“Look at his wrist, Hunk,” Pidge explained. “There’s no way he tripped and injured it that badly. He’s  _ Altean _ \- we have yet to see him or Allura injure themselves, but they’ve both had plenty of spills.”

“But that doesn’t-” Allura began, still trying to defend Coran. Shiro wandered over behind the Alteans, placing his hands on his hips and regarding the back of Allura’s head carefully.

“No no, she’s got a point,” Hunk interrupted. 

Coran sighed fondly. “Very astute, Number Five,” he conceded kindly. Shiro placed his hand barely in the top of Allura’s scalp. It felt disrespectful to just shove it down into her head.

“Seagull,” he said confidently. “Say seagull.”

“Coran!” Allura chastised. Pidge smirked smugly.

“Sea. Gull.” 

“What actually happened?” the Green Paladin asked.

“I was working in one of the old generator rooms.”

“Did you fall off a ladder?” Allura speculated. “Those rooms were created to be accessed by ladder only because of how delicate the wiring in them.” She looked at Pidge and Hunk as she explained. The two geniuses nodded along eagerly. “But you’re  _ supposed _ to have a spotter with you in those rooms, Coran-”

“I didn’t have a ladder,” Coran admitted sheepishly. Allura turned towards him so fast that she dislodged their blanket and knocked biscuit crumbs to the ground.

“Alright. Coran, your turn.” Shiro did the same thing to the Altean advisor. “Seagull.”

_ “What.” _ Allura didn’t phrase it as a question. Pidge and Hunk looked on in interest and concern respectively. Pidge shoved another biscuit in her mouth, eyes never leaving the two Alteans. Hunk took a swig from his thermos.

Shiro looked at the ceiling, trying to remember how that one song went. “~Rollin’. Rockin’ and rollin’. Down to the beach I’m- nevermind. This is way more interesting.” Shiro vaulted back over the couch, taking back his place next to Hunk on the arm of the couch.

“It seemed… excessive to use a ladder, so I simply used the ledge and-” Coran cut himself off, Shiro knowing that the Altean had just realized the hole he made for himself.

“I’d grab you a shovel to dig yourself out,” the former Black Paladin commented, “but even if I could, I wouldn’t. About time someone called you out on this.”

“Well?” Allura prompted dangerously. Shiro gulped sympathetically. Pidge reached for another biscuit, but Hunk blocked her hand with a whispered ‘ _ Save some for Keith _ ’. Pidge scowled, but retracted her hand to snuggle back into her blanket burrito. 

“I-”

“You fell, didn’t you?” Hunk asked worriedly. “Ohmigosh are you alright? It has to have been from pretty high up for you to get hur-”

Pidge smacked Hunk’s shoulder with a still-cocooned hand. “Way to kill the drama.”

“It was getting too tense in here.”

Allura paid them no mind, still fully focused on Coran. “You know you can’t  _ do _ that, Coran! What would have happened if something worse had happened? What if you’d have been knocked unconscious? What if you’d di-”

Coran wrapped Allura in a hug, gently saying “You’re right. That wasn’t smart of me, was it?”

Allura shook her head in mute confirmation. 

“It won’t happen again, okay?”

A nod.

“If it helps,” Pidge said quietly, “you literally have a castle of people to help you. It’s never an issue to grab one of us so that  _ that,” _ she nodded towards Coran’s wrist, “doesn’t happen again.”

Shiro sat quietly, absorbing his family with a small smile. He thought about telling the Lions, but no doubt Black would use it to fuel her argument.

For now, Shiro was content to observe the moment alone, committing the scene to memory.

***

The clock in the lounge read  _ 10:30 _ when Keith shuffled in, blinking incredulously at the scene before him. 

“Good morning, Keith!” Hunk called. 

“Uh, hi,” the raven-haired teen answered. The others called their greetings similarly. Keith plopped down on the third couch, selecting a blanket to wrap himself in before grabbing two biscuits and his thermos. “Did Lance do this?”

Pidge nodded sagely. 

“I didn’t know he could cook,” Keith mused. 

“None of us did, either,” Allura responded around a delicate sip of cocoa. Shiro abandoned his post by Hunk’s shoulder in favor of joining Keith on the third couch. Keith carefully took a bite of his biscuit, chewing quietly.

“Keith,” Pidge said suddenly. “What the  _ fuck _ are you doing?”

The raven-hair teen looked up at her in surprise. “...eating Lance’s biscuits?”

“Like hell you are; wha- where’s your  _ jam?!” _ she griped.

“My jam?” 

“Oh!” Shiro looked over at Keith, stuffing a fist in his mouth. “You don’t like jam! I’d forgotten! Don’t tell Pidge that!”

“I- I don’t like jam?”

“You had one job.”

“Are you asking her or telling her?” Hunk quipped while Pidge stared on in growing consternation.

_ “What?!” _ she erupted, scaring Hunk enough that he choked on his sip of cocoa. “How in the  _ fuck _ have you made it this far in life not liking  _ jam?!” _

Keith looked over at Allura and Coran for assistance. They shrugged helpfully. Shiro snorted into his fist.

“I- uh, they’re  _ biscuits, _ Pidge, what’s the difference-”

“Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable. Lance spends the time to make us these  _ lovely  _ baked goods, and you eat them plain like the plain-ass bitch you are.”

Hunk stared at Pidge, trying to process everything that had just happened. Keith’s mouth opened and closed mutely, trying to come up with a response. Allura and Coran looked like they wanted to be taking notes on this fascinating earthian interaction. 

Finally: “Hunk?”

“Yeah, Keith?”

“Hand me the damn jam, please.”

***

**11:00**

Shortly after everyone had their fill of biscuits (and jam- Keith begrudgingly admitted that it was a good combo) and cocoa, a friendly game of “Never-Have-I-Ever” sprang up. It had actually been going pretty well. Keith and Pidge were tied with one finger each, everyone else having been eliminated. Then Pidge looked Keith dead in the eyes, a challenge dancing beneath her skewed glasses.

“Never have I ever been kicked out of the Garrison.”

Keith turned bright red. “ _ Pidge! _ ”

“For. Violence.”

Shiro whipped towards the furious teen so fast he heard his neck pop. “You  _ what _ ?!”

The game was quickly disbanded after that. Pidge won.

“Should one of us go grab Lance?” Hunk questioned. “I feel like he’d want to be here for this.

“If he’s smart,” Pidge grumbled, still a little grumpy at the game being shut down by a laughing Allura and Coran, “he’s in his room sleeping.”

Shiro’s eyes widened.

“He shouldn’t be wasting a day like this! It was even his idea!” Allura exclaimed. “Why don’t I get him- no use napping when we’re all relaxing together.”

_ Oh shit- Lance _ .

“Okay, but he got all this together,” Hunk countered gently. “He’s been begging for a rest day for  _ ages _ .”

Coran and Keith looked away, deep in thought. Coran rubbed his wrapped wrist. 

“Number Three told me that he would watch over the Castle today while we rejuvenate.”

“He’s running the Castle? On his own?” Pidge cocked her head, forehead creased with passive concern. “Isn’t that, you know, a lot?”

“He shouldn’t have to do anything excessive- I’ll take care of my chores next quintant. All Number Three has to do is make sure the Castle systems start up each day, which he did quite well, might I add. Hopefully he’s taking some time for himself. We’ll likely see him wandering around soon enough.”

That seemed to ease the others’ minds, but Shiro crossed his arms thoughtfully. 

Lance had just made the Paladins  _ breakfast. _ No  _ way _ was he just about to stop there. Had they not just discussed that Coran needed to not take on large tasks on his own? Surely one of them would realize, right?

_ Shiiiiit _ .

Yeah. Time to see what exactly the newest Red Paladin was up to.

“Wanna play Duck Duck Goose?”

“ _ Fuck _ yes!”

*******

**11:00am**

**_Lance_ **

_ Coffee. _

_ Is. _

_ Nastier. _

_ Than. _

_ Keith’s. _

_ Taste. _

_ In. _

_ Hairstyles. _

Lance glared at the second empty mug he’d held that day. It was no less disgusting than the first batch.

But Wired Lance was back, so he really couldn’t be  _ too _ upset, could he?

Time to get back to work. 

The fun part was that this time  _ both _ of Lance’s legs were spasming randomly. Also his little finger on his right hand kept locking up  _ (that’s not normal?????)  _ and he kept, like, half winking and his jaw kept clicking together like a bad drum solo so that was fun.

So long as nothing from here on out required any statue impersonations, then Lance would be fine.

Coolio.

Okay so he hadn’t been  _ planning _ on having more caffeine- like, if it might have killed him the first cup then he was  _ definitely  _ dying tonight- but then he got super tired out of  _ nowhere _ and his agenda wouldn’t allow for any power naps because he’d told Coran that he could do this and dammit he wasn’t going to let his Space Uncle down. Nope nope noppity nope. 

He’d nap when the caffeine finally claimed his twitchy soul.

You know, Lance never thought that he’d be the one at risk from caffeine overdosage. 

Especially from caffeine that he doesn’t own.

Go figure.

“Alright, stowaways,” Lance prompted the mice, who had rejoined him in the kitchen, “where should we go next?” He needed to take care of bedding. He kept track of Coran’s chore calendar (and Quiz’s, Lance reminded Wired Lance), and today was when he took care of sheets, blankets, and non-delicate apparel. Delicate apparel was literally only Shiro’s vest and Keith’s gloves, but they were very important staples of the team so, being the amazing Space Uncle that he is, Coran was always diligent about caring for them properly and having them back to the two Paladins before any significant wardrobe malfunctions could occur. He’d also recently started throwing Keith’s jacket and Pidge’s favorite socks in after a fascinating discovery Lance liked to refer to as the Red Death because he’s creative and Pidge had had to wear a pink and green sweatshirt for a  _ week _ and it was  _ hilarious _ and ANYWAYS-

Red dye. Invincible no matter the galaxy, no matter the society. 

Truly an iconic noun.

With this in mind, Lance veered to his left, knowing that the laundry room was to the right of the medbay. Lance stepped in, grabbed a handy-dandy laundry basket (bright blue, because obviously he’s the Red Paladin… but the blue on his sweatshirt tie-dye spiral matched the basket  _ perfectly _ so... fight him he likes coordinating colors). 

Lance then trooped over to the Paladin corridors, grabbing all of the strewn about socks in Pidge’s room (she liked her neon fuzzy socks the best- Lance made sure to grab all of them so she’d have them all clean) and bundling all of Hunk’s favorite shirts in the basket (so his best bud would have his favorite stuff to get him through once their rest day ended) along with Keith’s black t-shirt (because  _ Dios _ knows that Keith needs to be better about buying more clothes for himself, but until then Lance would make sure he was well prepared), and Coran’s many uniforms (Lance would come back and make sure the press them just the way the Altean liked) as well as Allura’s favorite dresses, cast aside in favor of her more formal attire (but even princesses deserved comfy clothes, so Lance made a mental note to go digging in that storage room to find Allura some proper comfy day attire.) He also grabbed his own jeans and other shirts before trundling the basket back down the hall to the laundry room.

The laundry room was  _ massive. _ Like, ridiculously so. Lance knew that the Castle was created for many, many people- it was a war ship. Duh. 

But there was no reason to have 35 pairs of washing machines and dryers.

Yes, Wired Lance counted. He wanted to know before starting a load of clothes. Sue him.

No matter how many people that need to be clothed and stylish,  _ 35 pairs _ of washing machines and dryers was an obnoxious waste of space at  _ best. _ It’s called a schedule. Learn to use one, Debra, and maybe you wouldn’t need a whole room dedicated to swirling clothes around.

Just saying.

WIth that thought in mind, Lance chose washer/dryer pair number 23 and gently placed all his treasures inside, double-checking and then triple checking that he had everything right before starting the load.

One nice thing about Altean laundromats: they worked  _ stupid _ fast. Whereas on earth he’d need to keep track of the clothes for like three hours (he didn’t know leave him be), Lance only needed to keep with the washing machine for twenty minutes, and the dryer for ten.

Which only gives credit to Lance’s issue with a room  _ wall to wall with clothes cleaning boxes. _

_ Have some common sense _ .

Or, at the very least, some dignity.

Lance looked down at the mice once more. “Would you four mind keeping an eye on these for me while I go thrifting?”

Chuchle looked at him in confusion.

Lance sighed. “I’ll explain when you’re older.”

With the clothes now secure, Lance took off for the storage closet the mice had shown him, hoping that it would lead to some comfy clothes for Allura. If he found some more in his size, he’d probably steal some too because every day could not be jean day, okay? No matter how much Lance loves his jeans, sometimes he would really rather chew off his pinky toe than have to put those jeans on-

_ Focus _ .

Lance opened the door with his key, confident in his abilities now after the lesson the mice gave him earlier. The closet was still full of blankets and pillows, and Lance searched around for a good ten minutes, but found nothing that he or Allura could use.

He did, however, find the extra bedding that he’d need later, so that was cool.

Lance rocked back on his heels, trying to figure out where he’d be if he were comfy princess clothes.

That sounded weird.

Whatever. Wasn’t like there was someone to judge his thoughts. 

“Alriiiight,” he said quietly to the darkness. “Maybe the room you were in,” Lance addressed the master key. “There were some boxes way in the back.”

Mind made up, Lance made his way down towards the closet he’d been at earlier in the morning. Hopefully the others were staying relaxed and he wouldn’t get in anyone’s way. Lance hopped down the steps, making a note to check in with Quiz once he’d finished the laundry.

After that, he’d get some lunch.

Maybe more coffee.

*******

**_Shiro_ **

When Lance’s usual haunts came up empty, Shiro went to the Laundry Room. Shiro had been there once or twice in the past, not surprised to see evidence of Lance in there because, as he knew, it was laundry day. 

He and Lance  _ really _ needed to have a talk about personal limits and self-care.

Shiro scrubbed a hand down his face, taking in the sight of the four mice diligently watching the washing machine spin. He crouched down by them. “Lance hired some help did he?” he chuckled, brushing a hand over Chulatt’s fuzzy head. “I don’t suppose Plan Seagull would work on you, would it?”

Very carefully, Shiro barely poked Platt’s green stomach, firmly saying “Seagull.”

Plate rubbed their nose with no indication of Shiro making an impression on them.

_ Of course not- the mice can’t communicate to you in any means you’d understand. _

_ Okay, uh, new tactic. _

Shiro, finger never leaving its place at Platt’s belly, quietly said “Jump.”

Nothing happened other than Chuchule’s left ear flicking. With a fond sigh, Shiro rose once again to his feet. “It was a long shot, but worth a try. Have fun, guys.” With that, Shiro left the Laundry Room at a jog, hoping to catch up with Lance soon. 

***

On the bright side, Shiro found Lance soon after leaving the mice.

The teen had changed clothes, presumably having had a shower, if his vaguely damp hair was anything to go by. He’d chosen a rainbow tie-dyed hoodie and blue jeans with very comfy looking socks. Shiro flexed his feet jealously. He would  _ kill  _ to be that cozy right now.

On the down side, Shiro was very concerned for Lance’s health.

  
He was… vibrating? In a very concerning manner? Shiro paced around Lance as the current Red Paladin sifted through boxes of Altean Apparel. A small pile was forming behind him as the teen muttered under his breath. Lance’s jaw kept spasming, and his legs were shaking. 

Not good.

_ What happened? _

**_My Paladin may have found more caffeine,_** Red reported, sounding more concerned that Shiro had heard her as of then.

Shiro stopped. What?

_ He didn’t. _

**_Red Palain did!_ ** Blue interrupted.  **_Should Lions be worried?_ **

Shiro took in Lance critically, noting ever trembling muscle, every random twitch, and crossed his arms.

_ No, _ he answered dryly.  _ I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. _

**_Thank you, Paladin,_ ** Black rumbled.

_ That- that’s no- wait what- _

**_What is it, Paladin?_ ** Yellow questioned worriedly.

_ Actually, you know what? Yeah. he’s fine. _

That seemed to appease most of the Lions. Blue didn’t seem  _ quite  _ as pleased as the others, but Shiro could feel her lingering thoughts of playing along for now. Red also seemed mildly suspicious, but oddly detached.

  
Weird.

Lance suddenly shot to his feet from where he’d been rummaging. 

“I  _ got _ it!” he exclaimed happily, holding a pair of light, faded pink sweatpants and tossing them on the pile of what Shiro could now see were feminine casual clothes. Beneath them were two pairs in a more masculine color scheme. Shiro wasn’t typically one to assume via color, but he was finding that the Alteans had a thing about color coordination. 

“Uh, Lance?” Shiro tried, looking at the pile with concern. “What exactly are you doing?”

“Let’s see,” the teen mused, holding a sweatshirt up to his shoulders, “I am right around the size of- yeah okay! That’ll work great! Sweet!” With that, Lance gathered his treasures- sweatpants and baggy shirts?- into his arms and practically skipped his way out of the storage room. Shiro stared after him, trying to figure out what was going on.

_ I don’t suppose anyone over there has any ideas? _

**_Not a clue,_ ** Black responded.

***

After a brief pit-stop to move the sopping clothes over to a dryer, Shiro found himself and Lance in Lance’s bedroom, the latter stripping the former’s bed.

Right. Laundry Day.

Lance rubbed his forehead, probably feeling a killer headache coming on. Shiro pursed his lips sympathetically as he plopped down on the now stripped bed (damn thing didn’t move dammit) and watched Lance bumble about, straightening little things here and there. Then, the Paladin straightened up, tossed the bedding in an empty blue basket, and trundled out. Shiro got up and followed, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do here. Normally, he’d order Lance to get the  _ hell _ to bed before he overdosed on caffeine, but Lance couldn’t exactly  _ see _ him, did he?

Maybe he should try Plan Seagull on Lance?

Maybe it was a matter of finding the right way to communicate?

If he figured it out with Lance, maybe then it would work with the others and he could finally get through to them!

**_Won’t work._ **

“Black, don’t take this away from me,” Shiro grumbled.

For the rest of the morning, Shiro watched as Lance tidied up everyone’s room- sort of like he imagined hotel maintenance- and stripped bedding. By the end of it, Lance ended up just pushing the massive basket of sheets down the hallway. It was too full to even begin lifting, and even if Lance did, Shiro noted, he wouldn’t be able to see where he was going.

Shiro did try helping. Really, he did.

Predictably, his hand phased right through the stupid thing.

Go figure.

Instead, the former Black Paladin wandered behind Lance, calling out helpful things like “you’re veering” and “Lance, watch that corner you’re going to overturn-  _ what did I just say _ -” and “that looks like it hurt; how’s your toe?”

It made him feel better.

Yellow thought that it was endearing. Blue and Green wouldn’t stop laughing. Red was fondly bemused at her Paladin. Black was the only silent presence in Shiro’s mind.

“Alright!” Lance huffed, pulling the basket into the Laundry room. “We made it! Hi, mice.” The mice squeaked back a happy hello, and the teenager grinned brighter than the sun. “Is everything under control here still?”

They nodded in agreement. Shiro shifted his weight so he could lean against an unoccupied washing machine casually to survey the scene before him.

And, like the door, he fell  _ through _ the stupid thing.

In a blink Shiro was on his ass, staring at the interior of an empty cavern, watching through the glass as Lance bumbled here and there, making sure that everything was in order. He sat, bewildered at his predicament. 

The fun was only amplified as Lance tossed the massive pile of sheets into where Shiro’s  _ head _ was.

He ducked out of instinct, doing a mature and purely tactical crawl to the outside world. Shiro rose to his feet as soon as he was out of the spinning tin cans, brushing off unseen dust to regain his composure.

So no leaning then?

Cool.

Shiro cleared his throat as Lance left the room with a fond remark to the mice, following quietly to wherever Lance needed to go next.

As they walked, Shiro looked at his flesh hand. Then the back of Lance’s left shoulder blade. Back to his hand. Back to Lance’s shoulder. Shiro’s hand. Lance’s shoulder.

_ Go for it already. _

Keeping step, Shiro gently poked his finger into Lance’s shoulder blade.

“Seagull,” he said firmly. “Seagulls, Lance. Seagulls. Plan Seagull. Plan of Seagull- tell me you’re getting this.  _ Please _ tell me you’re getting this. Seagull. Seagull.”

Shiro’s shoulders fell at the lack of any sort of reaction from Lance.

Maybe he was wrong?

Maybe there was no connection?

Shiro paused his step, ignoring Lance’s footsteps fading away as he stared once more at his hands. 

If he couldn’t reach Lance, then what was he supposed to do?! How was he going to reach his team?!

Then: “~Rollin’. Rockin’ and Rollin’,” a light, mildly bemused voice floated down the corridor. Shiro’s head snapped up, as Lance’s feet fell and rose to the beat. “~Down to the beach I’m strollin’. And the seagulls peck at my head-  _ not fun. _ I said ‘Seagulls! *hm!*’- ”

“Stop it now!” Shiro finished with him, more than a little dazed. He raced forward as Lance kept humming the tune, the Red Paladin looking very confused with himself. “Holy shit,” Shiro whispered as he fell in step with Lance. 

“Weird. I haven’t heard that song in  _ ages _ .”

**_Well done, Paladin!_ ** Blue praised. Shiro sent a warm thanks in return.

**_What will Paladin do now?_ ** Green questioned. 

“I don’t know.”

***

The Castle had too many hidden closets. One of these days Shiro would have to ask Coran to explain where each one was and  _ why.  _ Shiro sat idly while Lance stepped into yet  _ another  _ closet full of fabric items, this one not far from the one he’d gotten blankets and pillows from that very morning. It also had sheets in it, not enough to satisfy Lance’s needs though, so the Red Paladin was currently having the mice point out nearby closets to add to his collection. By the end, Lance had a nice collection stacked in a neatly organized tower in the blue basket he still had with him. 

Once again, Lance decided to just push the basket rather than carrying it to the respective rooms. Good plan. Even better, Lance left the basket in the middle of the corridor and took trips to each room with the sheets needed. Shiro opted to sit next to the basket, poking it tentatively.

Solid.

Shiro leaned against the basket, arms crossed and forehead furrowed.

This whole “in spirit” business was really starting to get on Shiro’s nerves with its inconsistencies. He could sort of communicate with Lance, but not with any of the others. He could lean against this basket, but not the washers and dryers. He could sit on beds, but not make a mark on them. He could touch some things, but not move them. He could smell food, but couldn’t recall having been hungry since this whole mess started.

In summary, it was bullshit.

Shiro, huffing grumpily, reached behind him to poke the sheets. Solid. Couldn’t move them. They wouldn’t do anything if they were draped over him. Probably wouldn’t eve-!

_ Now wait a damn minute _ .

The sheets. What if they-

No. There’s no way.

It was too easy.

Shiro blinked, realizing what had to happen.

He had to test it.

As if on cue, Lance quietly came out of Keith’s room, picked up the next stack of sheets, and made his way towards Shiro’s room.

_ Perfect. _

Shiro leapt to his feet, bounding after the teen. He watched with interest as Lance expertly got the fitted sheet on the mattress, and waited for his chance.

_ There _ .  _ Right there. _ Right as Lance stepped away to get the sheet in order, Shiro hopped on the bed, crossing his legs and settling in the middle.

He felt silly, doing this, staring expectantly like a child hindering their mother’s chores, but it needed to be tested. What if this was how he got through to Lance?

Shiro scoffed at the mental image of him finally making contact with his team in the form of a… a sheet ghost.

_ Here it comes _ . Lance seemed to move in slow motion as he elegantly flicked the pale gray sheet to drape it onto the bed. Shiro closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable shocked cry-

The sheet fell through him. 

Shiro’s eyes snapped open, looking at the sheet that was now  _ beneath _ him.

_ What the-?! _

_ “DAMMIT!” _

***

If nothing else, this whole experience was giving Shiro some excellent topics for future lectures.

Lance didn’t break until the clothes he’d put in the dryer were finished and folded neatly on the respective team members’ beds. He also went back to the laundry room and folded all the identical sets of sheets before placing them in the closets he’d been at earlier. To Shiro’s immense relief, Lance finally heaved a sigh and dragged himself towards the kitchen.

And then got his mug.

And once again accessed the coffee maker.

Did Shiro say immense relief? He meant all-consuming horror and concern.

The effect was terrifyingly instantaneous. Lance chugged the caffeine torture device and immediatley his eyes snapped open and hands began shaking ever so slightly. He blinked a few times to reorient himself before gagging quietly.

“I’m definitely dying tonight.”

Shiro dropped his head into his hands. 

_ Red? You really not going to comment on your Paladin literally getting ready to overdose on caffeine? _

**_My Paladin knows what is doing._ **

Shiro stared at the nearest wall in a deadpan.  _ You’re kidding, right? _

No answer.

_ Fantastic. _

Good to know the Lions always had their Paladins’ backs, then.

As Shiro was mulling over that little thought, Lance rummaged around in a nearby cabinet and pulled out an Altean energy bar (Shiro grimaced at the thought of those nasty concoctions) before once again leaving the kitchen.

“Wow,” Shiro called after Lance, even after the doors to the kitchen had closed. “A whole five minute break! Very selfish of you, Lance! You- you should be ashamed of yourself!”

Shiro huffed a sigh as he left the kitchen.

“Lance, has anyone ever told you you’re exhausting?”

***

Since when did the castle have sentient cleaning staff?!

_ What the quiznak, Coran?! _

“Quiz”, as Lance had jovially called out, socked feet quickening their steps to speak to the massive android, regarded the Red Paladin with a terrifying degree of criticality in their glowing blue eyes. 

“Terrifying” because they didn’t even have  _ eyebrows _ and Shiro was still intimidated for Lance. 

Shiro stood next to them, wondering if he should be offended at the height difference between himself and the large magenta robot.

“Paladin,” Quiz asked, “why in Alfor’s name are your caffeine levels higher than when last we communicated?”

Lance’s eyes widened dramatically. Shiro choked back a laugh for his sake.

Oh yeah. He  _ definitely _ liked this one. Someone needed to at least attempt to hold Lance accountable for his Lance-i-ness.

“Well, I uhh-”

“You had more coffee. Say no more. What you’re going to do is retire to your room at once. From there I shall stop by with that absentee advisor and make him do his job a-”

“What? No!” Lance interrupted them. “I’m not going to ‘retire’ and we’re  _ definitely _ not getting Coran!”

“Paladin,” Quiz began patiently, “you are severely lacking any degree of self awareness or understanding of how to really take care of yourself. Coran has had a restful morning, I assure you, and now it’s your turn.”

“No.” Shiro looked at Lance with a glare. The teen stood tall, defiantly looking at Quiz. “I told them ‘no working’. They’re not going to work today.”

“Then at least let me do my job-”

“You told me that you would help me in fulfilling Coran’s duties today, did you not?” Lance countered, somewhat cheekily.

“You what?” Shiro looked up at Quiz accusingly.

“Yes, though if memory serves, that was whilst cleaning the hole you left in the eastern stairwell, was it not? I had bigger things to focus on.”

Shiro whipped around to look at Lance. “You  _ what?” _

Lance deflated slightly, but didn’t lose the gleam in his eyes. “And I apologized for that several times. Now, are you really going to tell me that you betablops aren’t capable of multi-tasking?”

“Oh for the love of-  _ fine, _ Paladin, you win. What all have you accomplished so far?”

Shiro crossed his arms as Lance excitedly listened to his list of things to do. “Traitor.”

***

For the next couple varga, that’s all Shiro did. He followed Lance around as the stubborn teenager flitted through the castle, fixing air ducts and adjusting temperature gauges with a keen eye that Coran would definitely approve of.

Shiro was torn at this point. On the one hand, he was thrilled to get a front row seat to the true Lance McClain- it was about time someone noticed how much he truly did. And Shiro was just so  _ proud _ of Lance. So, _ so, so _ proud.

On the other hand, though, Shiro was quietly pulling his hair out watching his teammate slowly lose steam doing chores no one required of him all because he wanted his family to have a restful day. 

He hated that he was the only witness, though.

Had no one taken the boy aside to explain that they could all have a restful day without someone having to shoulder all the work? Sometimes, self care meant prioritizing some things over domestic tasks.

_ We are  _ so _ having the bonding day of our lives when I get back. _

Lance leaned against the wall near his room, a sigh pulling from his chest.

“How the quiznak does Coran  _ do _ this everyday?” Lance asked the mice in his pocket and on his left shoulder. “It’s exhausting.”

“He doesn’t do  _ all _ of this in a day,” a new voice noted, somewhat moodily. Lance perked up, turning cheerily towards the voice. 

“Quiz!” Lance exclaimed. “Where’ve you been? I haven’t seen you since lunch!”

“I’ve been doing what  _ I’m _ supposed to do in a day.”

“Uh-”

_ “You, _ in your caffeinated state, have managed to do  _ three _ quintants of Coran’s tasks-”

“What? No, I did the list-”

“The list  _ I _ gave you was busy work! Idle tasks to clue you into the ridiculousness of your actions and inspire you to actually join your team! You then went and did everyone’s laundry and all the bedding! Not to mention the random tinkering  _ you _ added on to my instructions!”

“...Are you mad at me?” Lance asked quietly, confused. Quiz rolled closer, stopping stiffly near the teen.

“No,” they decided finally. “I am not. Though I am questioning why you went to such lengths on your ‘rest day’.”

“Oh. Well,” Lance looked down at his feet. “They’ve been struggling- we all have, but Shiro’s… hiatus-”

“Not you too!” Shiro grumbled, trying to ignore the catch in his breathing.

“-hit them all hard. They haven’t been themselves since. Normally, he’d be the one to lead the team and… take care of them.”

Quiz’s eyes flickered in what Shiro assumed was a blink. “And you took up the task in his stead,” they concluded.

Lance nodded with a small smile. “No one else could. I know he’ll be back. I  _ know _ . But they’re losing hope.” Lance shrugged in a  _ ‘so here I am’ _ gesture.

“Paladin,” Quiz said suddenly, “it is past time for your evening meal. You should go eat. I am going to power down for the evening if nothing else needs to be done.”

“No- ah, I think everything is done.”

“I concur.  _ Everything _ is done.”

Shiro grinned at the distinction, silently thanking them for being the logical one.

Lance huffed a laugh, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “Yeah. Yeah, it is, Quiz.”

“If you require nothing else, Paladin, I will be on my way,” Quiz announced gently. Lance rocked off the wall.

“Oh! Do you want me to walk you back?”

“I am quite capable of finding it myself, Paladin.”

“Go find the others, Lance,” Shiro urged. 

Lance nodded once at the betabot with a smile and the two turned toward their respective destinations. 

Lance took a few steps before turning back. “Hey! Shinaquiz Altea Betabot Prime!”

They stopped rolling. “Yes, Paladin,” they asked measuredly.

“Thank you. Seriously- you’re a life-saver.”

Shiro echoed the sentiment quietly.

“It’s never a problem, Paladin. Though,” they mused, “the next time there is a hole in my stairwell I’m leaving you to fix it.”

*******

**_Lance_ **

Lance smiled quietly to himself, satisfied with his day as he strolled towards the kitchen. He was starving, now that he thought about it. His head had begun to pound a varga or so ago while he’d been figuring out how to fix Keith’s door- it kept making this weird screeching noise that was driving him  _ nuts _ . He’d finally figured it out, but  _ Dios; _ what a migraine to figure out.

He hadn’t heard from the others all day, which he took as a good sign. Keith wasn’t roaming the halls, which meant he was likely having to engage in personal relations (oh no!); Pidge wasn’t tinkering or moping about in her lab (Lance had checked periodically throughout his day after lunch- it wasn’t that he didn’t trust the Pigeon, it was just that he didn’t trust her idle  _ mind _ , okay?); Hunk hadn’t been seen anywhere, so hopefully that meant he was in the kitchen or Common Room with the others; Allura and Coran had been out of sight all day, and Lance really hoped that they and the others were, you know,  _ interacting _ . The Alteans had been trying to cut themselves off. Lance knew that all the others had to do was  _ begin _ to suspect that and they’d fix the issue quick. 

Lance’s next step stumbled, knocking the Red Paladin out of his musings. He blinked once or twice, the cacophony of his brain coming to a climax as lethargy pulled at every muscle in his body. 

_ Dios, he’s exhausted _ .

Caffeine crash, his mind supplied helpfully. Or maybe it wasn’t his mind? All day he’d been getting… vibes? Like, someone pinning ideas on the Pinterest board of his mind? First in his room earlier that morning with Keith, then later in Shiro’s room, then the hallway with that earworm of a seagull song…

It’d been a weird day.

Lance, at this point, really just wanted to see his Space Family and, like, nap. His head hurt. So did his feet.

And his hands.

Tired Lance wasn’t much fun.

Lance already missed Wired Lance.

With that lovely thought, Lance rounded the corner to the Common Room, having completely forgotten about the kitchen. Whoops.

No one was in the Common Room, though there were blankets and pillows scattered about and all but one biscuit were gone. Lance smiled tiredly.  _ They liked it. _ There was a little note scrawled in black pen- one of Pidge’s science notation ones, Lance noted. It said:

_ “Hunk said I had to leave you a biscuit. Fuck you and your baking abilities” _

__ _ -Pidge _

Lance chuckled softly before devouring his biscuit in three slow bites, uncaring of whether or not it was a little dried out because of the lack of jelly. It was still delicious. 

He debated for a solid tick going to try and find the others- maybe something was wrong? Maybe they were breaking the rules of the day? Maybe they were doing something fun?- but ended up deciding that he’d wait for them right there on the couch he’d plopped down on.

_ Yeah. _

_ I’ll just- _

_ I’ll wait right here.  _

He was out, curled up in a tight ball leaning against the back of the couch, long before the others returned.

*******

**_Pidge_ **

**_Twenty Doboshes Prior to Lance’s Arrival_ **

“We should have a movie night,” Pidge commented absentmindedly from her seat on the counter. Hunk had decided that finger foods were the way to go, and the rest of Voltron (sans Lance- where  _ was _ he?!) decided to go with. Coran and Keith were assisting Hunk as best as they could while Pidge and Allura stayed out of the way and picked out dishware to use. When they ran out of plates to discuss- “Why is the entire kitchen color coordinated? Was your dad trying to make a… a statement? Was this a cry for help?” “Actually the dishware was  _ my _ idea. Is it too on the nose?” “...”- Pidge and Allura tuned back into the conversation the boys were having, piping in as they saw fit. 

“A movie night?” Keith echoed, pausing from where he was deftly chopping an edible plant native to Voltron’s most recent planet. Pidge didn’t recall anything truly notable about it, only that Hunk had been  _ obsessed  _ with the plantlife. 

“That’s an excellent idea, Number Five!” Coran exclaimed. “A perfectly fitting end to our relaxing day, I think!”

“I’m definitely in. Pidge, how many movies do you have on your laptop?” Hunk asked.

“Enough,” she answered, enjoying how Keith’s eyes lit up at the possibilities. No doubt movie nights were another thing foster families had made him miss out on. Her gut clenched sadly- movie nights had always been a staple in the Holt household. She and Matt would always argue over who’s night it was to pick the movie, more often than Pidge winning the choice.

Yeah. A movie night is just what they needed.

“We need Lance,” she asserted.

“Family Movie Night!” Hunk crowed, sprinkling Keith’s cut up plant over his latest creation. “Guys I made a soft pretzel.”

Keith raised an eyebrow beneath his bangs. “Hunk,” he said measuredly, “It looks like Sully from Monsters Inc.”

Hunk regarded it with a critical eye before  _ lighting up _ . “ _ Ohmigosh _ it  _ does!” _

“Amazing,” Pidge deadpanned, fighting a grin. “All the movies in the world, but by golly Keith Kogane has seen _ Monster’s Inc.” _

“I watch movi-!”

“-Also Lance took my laptop hostage last night. I don’t know where he put it.”

“Has anyone seen Number Three at all today?” Coran asked. Everyone shook their heads in answer. “We’d best check on him, then.”

“How about this,” Keith volunteered, “Hunk and I will finish up here and take the food to the Common Room. Everyone else, go to your rooms and get your pajamas- that’s a part of movie nights right? Cool, thanks, Hunk- and meet back at the Common Room. From there we’ll find Pidge’s laptop and set up what we need for the movie. Sound good?”

Pidge and the others chorused back excitedly before breaking off to get ready. The Green Paladin practically skipped to her room, giddy with the idea of watching a movie with her Space Family.

They’d had a pretty great day, actually. Maybe Lance actually knew what he was doing with this “self care” shit. 

As the day wound down, Pidge was curious to find that she was… kind of drained. Still wired because  _ movie night fuck yeah,  _ but also weirdly exhausted. She’d had a lot of fun, of course. But Hunk had told her she wasn’t allowed anywhere near her coffee, so she had nothing to keep her going right then.

God, is this what being  _ normal _ is like?

Disgusting.

Pidge reached the Paladin rooms wing, popping her head into Lance’s room briefly to see if he was there- he wasn’t- before heading to her own room to change. She walked into her room and… froze.

“ _ What the fuck?” _ she whispered to her little green and blue friends. They seemed to shrug at her in a  _ wasn’t us _ sort of gesture. Pidge rubbed her eyes once, twice, and checked the lenses of Matt’s glasses. Maybe she was seeing things? Perhaps that was a symptom of Hunk depriving her of her life force?

Pidge’s room was… okay yeah it was still a mess. But it wasn’t cluttered? Every pile was neat and orderly? And definitely not the way she’d left it? On her bed- newly made with a fuzzy blanket, she noted- was a nice folded pile of her favorite, comfiest clothes and her  _ socks _ waiting in a pile for her.

“Well then.” Pidge took in her room once more before moving in on her socks. She’d ask the others about it later- maybe they’d had similar things happen. For that moment though, she was content to bundle up with her favorite socks and long pants (guy’s pants, obviously, because  _ pockets _ ) and doing a quick once over of the Castle for where Lance might have hidden her laptop. Lion hanger? No. Lance’s room? No. Her room? No. Hunk’s? No. The Common Room? Already proved a no. 

She shrugged, figuring she’d have to ask him when he emerged from wherever he was at the moment, when she passed Shiro’s room. Her steps slowed, eyes looking to the floor.

No. It wasn’t in there.

Moreover,  _ she _ wasn’t going in there.

Not until she brought him home.

But, the team needed tonight. They needed to unite. What if Shiro was the key? What if this was his way of giving them his blessing?

That was ridiculous- he wasn’t dead. There would be no rational, theoretical, metaphorical, or spiritual reason for Shiro to be haunting the Castle and playing mediator even if he were. Yet, Pidge found herself strangely comforted at the idea.

_ Screw it _ .

Pidge quietly opened the door to Shiro’s room, breathing deeply before she went in. 

Shiro’s room... reminded her of Shiro. It was organized, clean. 

But only on the surface. Pidge smirked to herself as she lifted the mattress, enjoying the knowledge that his “secret” stash of interstellar post-it notes was still safely tucked away. Waiting for him to come home.

There were fresh sheets on his bed- who’d done that? Coran never went in Shiro’s room, no one but Keith last she’d checked.

Pidge looked over.  _ Her laptop _ . Right there, on Shiro’s desk. 

Lance must have done this. Pidge looked around, noting that casual touches of familiarity around the room. His pillows were fluffed, sheet tucked in the mattress with the blanket, and an additional, extra fluffy, black blanket folded neatly at the end of the bed.

Pidge bit her lip, trying to process the sheer  _ hope  _ radiating from the room. Lance was fully ready for Shiro to return at any moment.

She hadn’t realized that she needed to see that until that very moment. There was still hope. Lance was right: she could  _ do _ this, and she would.

But first she had to find that idiot and figure out what else he’d been up to; Coran had said Lance would only take care of the morning systems. If he’d been doing stuff like  _ this,  _ then there was no way that Lance had only done house cleaning and stopped.

Then they would fix themselves, make themselves a family again.

Then they would find Shiro and make themselves whole again.

***

Pidge couldn’t find Lance.

She’d already been in all his usual haunts while looking for her laptop. So, she settled for the assumption that one of the others had already dragged his ass back to the Common Room and made to head there herself.

She passed Hunk and Keith, both of them making their way to their rooms with friendly grins and a little wave from Keith. 

“You’ve got flour in your hair!” Pidge called over her shoulder as she walked by. She didn’t need to look back to know Keith had stuttered to a stop, hands ruffling his bangs. 

“What?! Where?”

“Pidge!” Hunk scolded with a laugh. “Don’t antagonize Keith like that. He’s too trusting of you.”

Pidge picked up the pace, cackling as Keith’s angry spluttering followed her.

Pidge stepped into the Common Room, a call of “Hey I found my laptop” fading as she took in the huddled mass of tie-dye and jeans on the couch.

_ Lance _ .

“Lance!” she called out. “Dude, we’ve been looking for you all day! We-” Lance interrupted her with a soft snore, his head rolling slightly in his arms from where it was tucked. His hood was up, and Pidge smiled softly at the bright sweatshirt currently swallowing the Red Paladin. 

He looked like he was freezing, though, despite the warm attire. Pidge was a little chilly herself- the Common Room was at an ideal blanket temperature. 

“Yeah, the others can figure this out,” she yawned, grabbing one of the blankets Hunk had draped over her that morning and draped it over Lance in turn. She then grabbed her own and leaned against Lance’s shoulder, making sure her blanket covered them both before burrowing beneath it. Almost immediately, Lance relaxed completely against her, leaning ever so slightly into her. She smirked.  _ Cuddle bug. _

Matt used to call her that before… before everything happened. He and Lance would get along great. Lance gave another soft snore. “Your neck is going to kill you tomorrow,” she noted, looking at Lance’s vertical positioning. 

Hunk would probably help her move him, or he’d wake up when the others arrived.

For now though, she was just fine being with her fellow Cuddle Bug.

*******

**_Coran_ **

The moment Coran stepped into his room, he knew his assumption (dear, dear hope) about Lance (Coran didn’t know why he stuck to the numbers for the others, it seemed so silly now. Yet he found that he couldn’t stop; they’d become an endearment for him) had been ill-informed. He knew that he was reaching the moment he’d told the rest of the team what Lance was going to be doing today.

_ Coran, what had you been thinking, assuming he’d know when to take a break? _

Lance was loyal to a fault, stubborn beyond all logic, and reckless of himself when it came to what he’d dubbed his “Space Family.”

Hopefully, he had gotten some rest the night before and taken some time for himself. 

A shallow hope, but a hope all the same.

Coran wasn’t sure whether to be proud or concerned when he spied the fresh sheets on his bed and the crisp, perfectly prepared uniforms hanging in their designated place.

_ Oh, Lance _ .

Coran grabbed his night clothes, changing quickly and making his way out of his room. To his delight, he crossed paths with Allura in the corridor. She looked immensely perplexed, though exceedingly jovial at the dusty pink sweatpants and large, white shirt she was currently wearing.

“Coran! What do you think?” she cried, coming to walk at his side. 

“I wasn’t aware you owned them,” he returned, pleased all the same with how happy she was. It wasn’t often he got to see that side of the princess anymore.

“I didn’t,” she sobered slightly, looking up at Coran. “I thought you found them?”

“Wasn’t me, Princess. I’ve been with you lot all day.” Coran noted. “Though it looks quite comfortable.”

“Oh, it is!” Allura beamed, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her pants. “I don’t know where these were found, but it’s marvelous wearing them.”

Coran leaned in thoughtfully. “It reminds me of the clothes Number Five is always wearing.”

“Yes,” Allura agreed, “or Lance.” Her eyebrows delicately knit together in concern. “What all has he been up to today?”

“I don’t know. Probably best we find out though.” With that, the pair quickened their pace toward the Common Room, stopping to do a quick check of Lance’s room just in case their friend was still sleeping.

***

“Oh good!” Coran called out, stepping into the Common Room. “We fou-”

A slender finger shooting up from the couch cut Coran’s words off. It then mimed a closed mouth.

_ Ah. Be quiet _ .

“Number Five?” Coran whispered, creeping behind the pair. Lance was curled vertically against the back of the couch, the Green Paladin cuddled against his side.

Humans were adorable, Coran had learned.

A little  _ too _ adorable sometimes.

“I swear to quiznak,” the bundled girl threatened. “If you two make me move, or wake him up, I’m going to…”

“To what?” Allura questioned, genuinely curious. Coran found himself invested in the unfinished warning.

“I’ll tell Hunk what happened to his stash of sweet magleples.” Coran could hear the smirk in the small human’s voice.

He and Allura shared a look. “Fair enough,” he said with finality. No way was he risking the Yellow Paladin’s wrath. Allura nodded in agreement. Her gaze softened as she looked at Lance. 

“Is he alright?”

“As far as I know? Yeah. Just exhausted. What all was he  _ doing _ , Coran?” the blanket lump asked. Coran shrugged, forgetting she couldn’t see him.

“I don’t know,” he supplied. “Though I’m sure we all have a few ideas.” The lump nodded. Lance gave a mutter, curling up a bit. 

Without a word, Coran and Allura settled on the pillowed floor in front of the couch, Coran liking the fact that from there he had a good vantage point and could watch over his family.

He knew it’s what Number On- what  _ Shiro _ would appreciate from him.

Coran’s heart ached at the reminder of their missing member. The ship wasn’t the same without him.

But maybe this was how they found him. Maybe they needed to heal, to  _ really _ heal before Shiro returned to them.

Coran could only bundle himself in a blanket and hope.

*******

**_Keith_ **

Someone had cleaned his room.

Keith stared at it, unsure of how to proceed. The room looked the same; Keith wasn’t one for personal touches or anything, but he also wasn’t one of those people that strives for complete cleanliness and organization. 

He definitely hadn’t left his bed looking that orderly and smooth. He definitely didn’t fold his clothes  _ ever. _ And all the scattered clutter of socks and bits of rock or random things that made it home with him from missions were nowhere to be found. He’d been meaning to do a thorough cleaning soon- it was starting to bug him. Apparently, someone had beaten him to the punch. 

And his door was fixed. There was no more of that annoying sound, none of the screech of gears out of place. Keith thought a moment before stepping back out the door way and listening to the silence as his door  _ whoomfed _ close.

Open.  _ Woomf _ .

Close.  _ Woomf. _

It was unsettling.

Keith looked around his room, stepping in tentatively, looking for the culprit. He was pretty sure he knew who it was; no one else would have the audacity to clean his room. No one ever had in the past, though they liked to tease him lightly about it. 

Keith’s room was… his space. It wasn’t often in his life that he got a space entirely his own. The desert house had been nice, but it was… the desert.  _ Everything _ out there had been his because, put simply,  _ there had been no one else out there to claim it. _

So that didn’t count.

The castle was so different from every home Keith had ever been in. It was full of life and people far more social than he, but he still had a place that no one could intrude on without his permission.

Maybe that’s not the thing he needed to focus on, though?

If Keith’s guess was correct, then it hadn’t been to hurt Keith or betray his trust. It had been to help. To enhance his sanctuary.

On some level, Keith was angry at having been disturbed. On another, he was kind of grateful.

On an entirely different level, however, Keith was concerned.

Why?

Because things were beginning to fall into place he was hoping to all  _ hell _ that he was wrong about his assumption.

To do that though, Keith needed to change, check his hair for flour (not that he didn’t trust Hunk, more of he didn’t trust Pidge. At all,) and talk to the others. 

*******

**_Hunk_ **

_ Owwwwwwwwwwwwww- _

Hunk stumbled out of his room, biting his lip as he cradled his foot close.

Keith appeared at that moment, materializing next to the Yellow Paladin. He regarded Hunk with a curious glance. 

“You alright?” he asked. Hunk pouted, looking down at his less-than-happy-toe.

“I stubbed my toe,” he complained. Keith’s expression opened slightly, Hunk noting that he looked like he was trying to repress a smile. “Don’t laugh at me! I’m injured!”

“Hey,” Keith half-chuckled, holding his hands in surrender, ”I didn’t say anything.”

“Rude. No snacks for you.”

Keith glared at Hunk until the larger boy submitted.

_ Please never teach Lance anything like that, _ Hunk silently begged. No  _ way _ would he be able to ever refuse the boy. He was bad enough with the puppy eyes as it was.

Oh yeah! Lance!

“Did you see Lance at all?” Hunk asked. Keith shook his head.

“No, but I think he’s been around today.”

Hunk gasped theatrically. “Was your room tidied too?!” Keith grimaced.

“Yeah,” he grumbled. “Yeah, it was.”

“Do you think it was Lance?”

Keith crossed his arms and adjusted his stance. “I don’t know who else it would be, otherwise.”

Hunk nodded solemnly. “I don’t think Coran was right about Lance’s plans today,” he admitted. Keith nodded quietly, echoing the statement.

“We’d best find the others and figure out what all happened today.”

Both Keith and Hunk had forgotten about the food they were supposed to bring with them by the time they reached the Common Room.

***

“You guys in he-” Hunk was cut off with three quiet calls of “hush” in varying forms. He blinked, taking in the sight of Coran and Allura sitting on the floor in front of the couch. On the couch was a blanketed blob that could only be Pidge and… 

“ _ Lance!” _ Hunk whispered happily, quickly heading over with Keith at his side. 

“Is he alright?” The raven-haired teen asked, taking in the lack of consciousness.

“According to Pidge, he’s just exhausted.”

“Should we wake him up?” Hunk asked worriedly. He hated to. The very idea made his stomach churn, especially when Lance seemed so at peace, but someone needed to ask the question.

“No,” Allura decided finally. “If he’s really so exhausted, it’s probably best for him that we leave him be.”

Hunk wordlessly nodded before climbing onto the couch on the other side of Lance. His blanket from before was still there, so he got under that as well before pressing his shoulder against Lance. For a moment he was terrified he’d woken the tired teen up as Lance’s eyes slowly blinked open. They didn’t focus at all, though, as everyone held their breath while Lance adjusted to be leaning on Hunk but conforming around Pidge in his sleep. Hunk sighed quietly, happy that his friend had finally joined them. 

Keith took a look at his team’s formation and silently grabbed a blanket to take up the space next to Pidge. He leaned back against the arm, draping his legs in front of her blanket bundle to rest on Lance. Hunk looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Keith didn’t answer, simply mouthing a “ _ what?” _

“Does anyone know what happened with Lance today?” Pidge asked quietly as she adjusted to Lance’s slight change in positions. Her head popped out from beneath the blanket, glasses flashing as she adjusted them. Everyone looked away, not able to answer. They no doubt had seen similar things that Hunk had: rooms lightly tidied, sheets fresh, laundry folded neatly on smooth blankets. 

“No,” Hunk answered, locking eyes with the others, “but I’m sure we can figure out some of it.”

“I quite agree!” Coran joined, eyes lighting up at the idea of solving a mystery.

“Did you all see Lance last night or this morning?” Keith asked, looking around at the group. Everyone nodded, surprise lighting their gazes as they realized. “When?”

“He and I were in the kitchen until 12:20,” Hunk volunteered, feeling his cheeks heat at the reminder of why they were in the kitchen that late (or early).

“Lance left my room at 1:15,” Pidge said blandly. Hunk looked at her in surprise.

“Pidge’s clock said 1:45 by the time I made it back to my quarters,” Allura said, looking worried about the early answers.

Coran looked at his wrist. “He and I finished up in the Medical Bay at around 2:30. From there, he went to sleep.”

“ _ Shit,” _ Keith whispered, looking up at Lance with wide eyes. The teen didn’t stir. 

“What?” Hunk asked, noting how uncomfortable Keith had looked the entire conversation.

“Well,” Pidge answered, looking confident, “if Lance went to bed at 2:30 and woke up at 5:30, when Coran gets up normally, then he’s currently running on like, three hours sleep max.”

“No. No he’s not,” Keith replied, turning his gaze to the ceiling.

“What? No, Pidge’s math is correct-” Allura started.

“Lance didn’t stay in bed until 5:30,” Keith bit out. He looked up then, locking eyes with Hunk. “I couldn’t sleep. Lance found me in the training deck at 4:30. He challenged me to a spar, and I didn’t go to bed until 5:30.”

They all sat in silence, processing. 

Pidge huffed quietly after a minute. “Fucking dumbass,” she hissed. 

“Pidge!” Allura reprimanded.

“No,” Pidge returned. “He gets us all to get our heads out of our asses and assigns us a mental health day, knowing full well that he’s operating on two hours of sleep  _ after  _ sparring with Keith?! No offense, man, but you’re exhausting after  _ eight _ hours sleep.”

Keith shrugged in agreement. “None taken.”

“And what all’d he do? Laundry, castle start up, breakfast-”

“He fixed my door,” Keith offered. Pidge nodded in thanks.

“-he fixed Keith’s door, everything that the entire  _ team _ could be doing. We’re Voltron! We’ve taken down Robeasts and monsters! Hell, we took down  _ fucking Zarkon.” _ Pidge looked over. “But we can’t take care of our laundry without one of us nearly killing themselves?”

“This can’t keep happening,” Hunk whispered. The rest of his teammates nodded. 

“We need to do better than this. We can’t be a team if we’re relying on one person to carry us when we aren’t in battle. It’s not fair to Coran, and it’s not fair to Shiro or Lance.”

“Voltron fell apart,” Allura murmured. “Lance gave us what we need to fix it. We have to fix it now, before we do anything else.”

“What do you have in mind, Princess?” Coran asked.

Allura grinned. “I think another rest day is in order.”

*******

**_Shiro_ **

Shiro sat on the couch adjacent to his family, watching them heal themselves, watching them learn how to be a team--no, a  _ family-- _ again.

A tear dripped down his face. It wasn’t alone. He didn’t mind them. 

They had a movie day the next day, all six of them sprawled on or near the middle couch in a tangle of laughter and comfort. Shiro joined, taking up his usual perch next to Hunk on the couch.

The first movie, Shiro could see the unspoken emptiness in their minds, the gap that he was supposed to be filling. He pursed his lips, unsure of what to do.

He settled on leaning through Hunk’s head, pressing a hand on Lance’s shoulder.

“I’m so proud of you all,” he whispered fiercely. “So,  _ so proud.” _

Lance sucked in a small breath.    
  


“Hey guys,” he said softly. The others turned his way. “Shiro’d be proud of us.”

“What makes you say that?” Pidge asked. “Not that I disagree, or anything.”

“I don’t know. Just a feeling.”

Shiro drew his legs up, crossing his legs and placing his hands in his lap as the movie played on. He was at peace.

His team was back. They weren’t lost. They were going to be fine. It didn’t matter if Shiro couldn’t reach most of his team; they didn’t need him to worry about him.

All he needed to focus on now was getting back to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw yay some fluff!
> 
> I’m not totally sure I like anything in this chapter? Like I like it, but I also thought it would come out a bit better.
> 
> Idk.
> 
> Did I write Lance in a tie-dye sweatshirt because I practically live in mine?
> 
> Yup. I regret nothing.
> 
> I’m going to try and stay more on top of things for the rest of these updates, so hopefully this never happens again. I really really appreciate all of you who have stuck with this and have left some love- you truly make my day with every kind comment or kudos. You all are amazing.
> 
> Let me know if the wait was worth it (I realize this is definitely not my best update but I’ve also always wanted to say that dont @ me<3)
> 
> I’ll see you next chapter!
> 
> Peasant Out.


	11. A Quiet Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An evening that is anything but.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!  
> HI HI HI HI!  
> I’m back! It’s been a hot minute! I am so sorry!  
> But, hopefully, I made this chapter long enough to make up for it! This stupid thing is over 62 pages long (at least that’s what my chromebook is saying) and I’ve been working on it since November 26, 2020.  
> Remember when I had chapters of right around 2,000-4,000 words? Yeah, those were the days.  
> I did consider making it into two chapters instead, but I couldn’t find a good splitting point that would serve a purpose to the flow of things.  
> Oh, please note that the next page is going to be a special note from me to you guys explaining how this AU is going to work because I’m not quite sure of how else to explain it. We need to set some basics up and give you guys a chance to ask questions (if there are any). Again- there is not another chapter up as of today, but I do need you all to read it please because I’m confusing and I don’t want anyone confuzzled with the lore of this story.  
> BUT ANYWAYS!
> 
> I don’t own any characters (accept for Shinaquiz). I was my own beta and uhhh she’s a little rough. 
> 
> ENJOY:)

A Quiet Evening

For a while, things were okay.

They weren’t right, and they wouldn’t be right until Voltron was whole again. But, for a little bit, things were better than they’d been in a long while. 

Life continued on as it had, for the most part. Voltron kept the battle against the Galrans strong, engaging in vicious skirmishes and freeing every planet they could. Keith was still restless, unable to contain his temper at Coalition meetings, though all of Voltron was pleased to say that their leader was looking more like his usual hotheaded self rather than the short-tempered ghost that had been haunting the castle as of late. Lance kept up as best as he could, tag-teaming with Allura to keep all metaphorical and literal alien feathers smoothed in the wake of conflict and misunderstandings. Hunk still baked his stress out in the kitchen, but began inviting random members of the Castle to join him, sometimes sparking an impromptu kitchen party. Allura began delegating more, letting her family help her as she kept Voltron afloat. Coran was a different story, but Lance, Hunk, (Keith sometimes) and Pidge always kept an eye on him, making sure that if he ever came to one of them that they were free to assist. They also made sure to check on him each at least once at different times every Castle daytime cycle to make sure that there was no chance of him having another disaster.

Speaking of Pidge, Lance and she had made a deal: so long as she met a certain quota of sleep each week, Lance would not touch or judge her nighttime work. So far, it was working great. Everyone had been sleeping better, actually, and Lance was thrilled. He also made sure to join (pester) Shinaquiz more often when they were working. Sometimes they’d show him how to clean something Coran didn’t bother with, and sometimes they’d just use him for Voltron gossip, which was always readily given. They found Keith’s cliche Garrison “bad boy” tale hilarious, and marveled at Pidge’s journey to get here. Lance liked talking to them, and made sure to tell the other castle occupants about them. He’d made Coran drop his wrench when Lance made an off-hand (though very fond) comment about Coran never telling Voltron about Shinaquiz. It was a quality conversation.

Lance found himself in the Black Lion’s hanger more often than not. Before Shiro’s… hiatus… he’d steered clear of the imposing Lion out of respect. Blue had teased Lance about it, purring that Black was harmless. Lance could think of her like he thought of Shiro- a safe place. Blue had harrumphed quietly to herself, muttering why wouldn’t he just come to  _ her _ if he really needed someone to talk to.

But recently, with Allura bonded to Blue and Red being… well,  _ Red,  _ Lance was finding it harder and harder to find somewhere safe to talk and vent without feeling like he was burdening anyone or hindering something more important. Sure, he knew that all he had to do was ask for an ear and anyone in the Castle would willingly drop everything to oblige. Hunk had sat him down a week ago in the kitchen and aggressively (and lovingly) reminded Lance that he was loved and could/should always talk to the Yellow Paladin about anything and everything “so help me Voltron, Lance.” But that didn’t sit well with the teen. How was he supposed to expect someone to carry his baggage when carrying their own baggage had nearly killed Voltron?

Besides, it wasn’t a big deal. He was fine. 

No, he’d needed somewhere different. Somewhere new and untarnished and undisturbed.

Lance hadn’t been paying attention as he wandered through the halls one day, needing a place to clear his head, when he looked up and found himself face-to-face with the Black Lion herself. 

“Oh!” he’d grinned, making to leave. “Sorry to disturb you, Black. Tell the other ladies I say hi.” He didn’t know if the Lions spoke to each other in their free time, but he figured they had to have  _ some  _ way of entertaining themselves when the rest of Castle wasn’t in battle. It couldn’t hurt to say, anyway. 

Something had stilled his feet though, inviting him in. He’d looked down, biting his lip.

“Actually, uh, I don’t suppose you’re busy?”

Since then, whenever Lance couldn’t keep his head on straight, or needed someone to talk to, he’d go and talk to Black. Keith was never there- Lance knew he refused to bond with a Lion that wasn’t his. Frankly, Lance felt bad enough going and just sitting in the hanger without thinking about why no one was ever there.

Was it wrong to speak to Shiro’s Lion without Shiro being there? Lance figured it was, but also couldn’t stop himself from searching for the oddly warm environment. He always felt less bothersome, less alone, in the room with the silent Lion. He’d sit in a corner, or lay in front of her paw, and just speak into the silence. Sometimes he wouldn’t say anything for a while, gathering his thoughts. Nothing life-altering, but enough that Lance wasn’t being constricted by his own mind.

He never told the others he did this. It was A, awkward, and B,  _ juuust _ personal and loner-y enough that they might take offense. Lance really didn’t want that.

Currently, Lance was laying on his back, legs splayed up against the wall of the aforementioned hanger, explaining why he felt that his bayard should be allowed to become a lance.

“-like, I don’t  _ know _ how to use one, but I feel like if Red wasn’t such a wet blanket, she’d let me have one. Blue always said it was a silly request, but also you know how Blue is! She’s such a Mom, you know? She was probably worried that I’d stab myself or something. But then she gave  _ Allura _ one no questions asked! It’s like she doesn’t trust me, or something! Which is ridiculous and-” Lance paused, wondering if Black ever actually listened. Honestly, he wouldn’t mind if she didn’t. His brow furrowed, sudden concern for the alien craft chasing away his train of thought.

“Hey, um, Black.” Lance sat up, crossing his legs and leaning back to better look at her dim yellow eyes. “I’ve been rambling on for who knows how long, and I really appreciate you letting me invade your space right now. I don’t… I don’t exactly know what you’re going through, but I can’t imagine it’s easy. Losing Shiro was,  _ is, _ the worst things that’s ever happened to us. And I want to assume that it’s the same for you, but I don’t think that it is.”

The Red Paladin looked down at the ground, biting his lip.

“Zarkon and you were close. I know you were from the way Allura and Coran act whenever he comes up in conversations about the war on Altea. He was your Paladin.  _ Yours. _ I can’t imagine what you felt-” could Lions feel?- “when he betrayed you. And even with that, you had to watch, had to  _ fight, _ when we won against him. He tried to take you from Shiro and tried to force you under his thumb and none of us ever thought…thought to check up on you.” Lance took a breath, trying to figure out if he was delusional or overstepping.

“I’m not your Paladin, Black, and I know that this isn’t my place. I know that if Keith were in here right now he probably wouldn’t be amused. I know that Shiro would be  _ very _ perplexed. But I’m worried about you. We’ve put you through an awful lot, haven’t we?

“I guess what I’m trying to say is… I’m sorry, Black. I’m sorry that we killed Zarkon -- not because I can condone all the bad things he’s done or the people he’s hurt, but because  _ you _ had to watch. I’m sorry that he betrayed you. I’m sorry that Shiro-” Lance wrapped his arms around himself, suddenly cold, “I’m sorry that we can’t find Shiro. I don’t know what’s going on for you and the Lions, but I know with you and Keith heading the charge, we will get him back. I know he’s not gone, and I know you know that too.”

Lance stood then and brushed himself off. “We’ll fix this, Black. I don’t know why you’re the one to have bad luck with Paladins -- personally, I always thought it would be Red (no offense to my lovely Lion) -- but we’re going to fix this. I just know it.”

Lance didn’t turn around as he left the room, realizing for the first time that he knew that Black had heard him.

*******

**_Shiro_ **

Shiro stared after the Red Paladin’s retreating form in complete shock.

He’d… never thought of that. 

All four Lions were silent as Lance’s gentle footfalls faded down the corridor. Normally, Shiro would follow to check on the others. Part of him felt bad about eavesdropping on Lance’s monologuing, but Black always seemed most at ease when Shiro was near, and with her more relaxed approach to how Shiro spent his time, he wasn’t going to complain about spending some time in her hanger. 

Plus, it was nice getting to hear raw, unfiltered Lance. He and Lance hadn’t gotten the chance to really get close before the battle with Zarkon.

Shiro closed his eyes and breathed in. When he opened them, he was facing Black on the Astral Plane. He reached forward, whispering a gentle “Black?”

**_Please._ ** It was just one word. One spoken without anger, without weight, without authority. It was small and pained and so unlike the powerful Lion of stone he sometimes thought he piloted. 

He knew what it meant, though:  _ Please stay safe. Please don’t leave me. _

Shiro licked his lips, looking for a way to respond. “I’m not…  _ him _ . I’m not going to leave you Black. I love being your Paladin.”

**_But Paladin is confused,_ ** Green guessed. Blue tried to huff in exasperation of Black’s secrecy, but it was negated by the sheer  _ pride _ radiating from Red and Blue at that moment.

“Yeah, actually. I am confused. Black, if you were so afraid of losing another Paladin, why did you lock me here? It’s no safer here than it is out there. Isn’t it better for me to actually be your Paladin? All this has done is force you to take on another Paladin! And, you forced Red  _ and _ Blue to lose their Paladins as well!” 

Yeah, he was recycling old arguments. At this point it was all he had for ammo.

He was met with silence. Shiro realized with a start that it was also  _ guilt _ tainting the air around him, not just pain.

“What aren’t you telling me? I’m not just here because of Black’s concerns, am I?” Shiro bit his lip musingly, finally understanding that it was  _ trauma _ fueling Black’s actions, not malice. Not pettiness.

Honestly, at this point he was more angry that he of all people couldn’t recognize textbook psychological trauma symptoms when it literally locked him in a different dimension. 

**_He is coming,_ ** Yellow whispered. 

“Who?”

**_Lions don’t know. But He is coming for Paladin. Lion will not lose another. Here is safe,_ ** Black rumbled. Shiro’s skin prickled at her words. 

“Why is he coming for me? Is he from the Galra? How do you know all this?”

Shiro stared up helplessly as he felt the Lions draw back, refusing to attempt to answer his questions. 

“Please! I need to know what my team is up against!”

Nothing.

Shiro glared angrily at his feet, once again closing his eyes to travel back to the Castleship. “Fine,” he spat.

Just because he understood some of Black’s reasoning didn’t mean that he would give her a free pass for her blindness. But it did make sense, and he was glad that someone had called it to light.

God, he owed Lance so much right now. 

***

Shiro wandered through the Castle, trying to find someone to tail for a bit. This was his system now: visit with Lions (and attempt to further his argument in any way, shape, or form), wander through Castle, check up on Voltron, then arrive back in Black’s cockpit after everyone went to sleep. Rinse, repeat. 

It wasn’t that he enjoyed this, but Shiro was finding that he couldn’t entirely hate his situation. It certainly could have been worse, right? What if he’d never been able to leave the Astral Plane?

What if he’d  _ actually  _ died?!

No, this was the best he could hope for given the way things were. He could still be there for his team, even if it wasn’t ideal.

Yeah. He’d made something resembling peace with this situation.

Humming gently under his breath, Shiro’s attention was drawn to happy conversation coming from Green’s hanger.  _ Pidge and Hunk.  _

Shiro grinned, stepping into the room and basking in the light and warmth from the two genius’ work. They were discussing a new scheme, no doubt to modify the Lions in some boggling way. 

“-but what if it works?!” Pidge was debating. Hunk raised a disapproving eyebrow. 

“Even if it did, can you really see the others going for it? Keith is touchy enough as it is without us barging in and jeopardizing his one and only hope.” Shiro walked closer, suddenly very concerned. This didn’t seem like the sort of conversation that would end in a wacky invention. 

“What exactly do you two have planned?” Shiro whispered, moving to look at Pidge’s display. He couldn’t understand any of the schematics, but could see that it had been painstakingly worked on and planned.

“I can’t just accept not knowing, Hunk!” The Green Paladin’s shoulders drooped, her hands clenched on the table in front of her. “There has to be something -- uh -- an explanation, a reason, a science,  _ something!” _

Hunk sighed sadly, resting a hand on the girl’s shoulder gently. “I hate this,” he said simply. Pidge looked up, her glasses shining as her brow furrowed. Shiro hovered nearby, wanting to believe that this wasn’t about what he knew it was. “I hate not knowing. But… right now all we have is hope. The one thing keeping Voltron functioning currently  _ is _ not knowing. Because then we can hope for the best, Pidge.” The taller boy sighed. “If this doesn’t work the way we want it to, I don’t want to imagine what it will do to the others. I’m not sure it’s worth the risk.”

Pidge leaned into Hunk’s side. “You’re right,” she whispered. “I know you are.”

“We’ll figure this out, Pidge. We haven’t lost him, I know it.”

Shiro left them be, then, not wanting to intrude on them anymore than he already had. He may have made peace with his own struggles, but Shiro didn’t think he’d ever make peace with the sight of his family grieving. Especially not when they were grieving him.

It wasn’t right. 

“Green, Yellow, I don’t suppose either of you are spea-  _ augh!” _

Shiro was nearly out the door when blinding pain shot through his skull. His vision flickered, familiar purple dancing through his vision. It wasn’t the Astral Plane. It was the color of his nightmares. The color that haunted every step he took, waiting to take him back. Shiro braced himself against whatever was to his left -- the doorframe? He couldn’t see it. 

He couldn’t see the castle at all. It was like he’d been transported to a new world entirely. A world he thought he’d left behind when he joined Voltron. He could see a blinding light- a  _ Galran _ shining a light in his eyes where he existed, suspended in a container of some sort while fluid poured in-

No, no, he was standing. He was in a doorway. He wasn’t strapped down.  _ He wasn’t in a container. _

_ “Subject YOXT39 has normal response to optic stimuli. Approved for use in Operation Kuron.” _

What?

Who was that?! Who was speaking?! Why did he know that voice?! What is Operation Kuron?

Shiro writhed and struggled to free his arms from the heavy straps holding them in place, only to snap back into himself as his wrist collided painfully with the… doorframe…

He… he wasn’t back there. Shiro blinked again, vision clearing of purple in lieu of grays and blues and other colors of home. 

**_Paladin!_ ** Black was frantically calling, the other Lions yelling for Shiro as well. The former Black Paladin stumbled back, sliding down the wall to rest his head between his knees where he sat.

**_Paladin, what happened?!_ ** Red questioned. Shiro shook his head.

“I don’t know,” he whispered. “I don’t think that was my memory- it wasn’t like any time that I’ve had a flashback. And ‘Operation Kuron’, I’ve never heard that name. What does it mean?”

None of the Lions responded. Shiro raised his head, running a hand through his bangs. 

“Why am I seeing memories that aren’t mine?”

*******

**_Allura_ **

Say what you will about Earthlings; they’re incredibly tenacious. Allura had never been prouder of her team- her family- than when she watched them all band together to build themselves back up. They weren’t complete yet, though, and a dark part of Allura’s mind whispered that they might not  _ ever  _ be complete.

That part was buried under useless regulations and ceremonies that Allura doubted she’d ever have to use, therefore avoiding that section of her mind altogether.

Just because it didn’t work did not mean that she would not keep trying it. 

Piloting a Lion was an excellent distraction. Sure, Allura missed the Castle during battles, missed having control, but Blue was kind and welcoming. The two got along well, and Allura felt at home in Blue’s cockpit. She knew they’d never be as close as Lance and Blue were, and that was okay. Allura wasn’t sure she wanted the Paladin life. Of course, she would do it for as long as the universe required of her. 

But that didn’t mean she wasn’t hoping to one day see Lance back in the Blue Lion, and Keith back with Red, with all those missing from their family returned-- Pidge’s missing father and brother included. Allura did not know who they were, but she knew that they were good to Pidge and Shiro and that their opinion was good enough for her to privately promise to find them even if it took her 10,000 decaphoebs.

She would do it for their memories.

But that was an awfully morbid thought to go to dinner with, and Allura shook her head to clear her thoughts before entering the kitchen. Her eyes closed as she inhaled whatever wonderful creation Hunk had come up with for their evening meal.

Truly, she didn’t know how he did it. 

“Hey Allura,” Pidge said, looking up from her laptop screen to give the princess a small wave and a warm smile. Allura grinned back, taking a seat next to the youngest Paladin. 

“Hi Allura!” Hunk echoed, stepping into Allura’s sightline. “I don’t suppose you know where the others are?”

“I don’t know about Keith,” Lance breezed into the room with a smile, settling down across from Pidge, “but Coran was reorganizing one of the closets down the hall. He said he’d be on his way in, and I quote, ‘Two jiffs of a Norsploq cheek’.”

Pidge looked at him over her laptop. “...What?”

Lance threw both arms out to the side. “Right?! I swear he’s just making things up to mess with our heads now.” 

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Hunk answered, setting down utensils and dishware. “Allura was nodding when you said that.”

Pidge narrowed her eyes while Allura goodnaturedly glared at Hunk for ratting her out. “And what in the hell is a jiff of a Norsplotch cheek?”

“I think you mean ‘Norsploq’, Pidge,” Lance quipped, biting his lip to keep from laughing.

“Fuck off, Lance. I’m trying to logic.”

“No swearing at the table!” Hunk called from the kitchen, having walked back to the counters to retrieve the entree of the evening.

“A Norsploq is a delightful, though reclusive creature on the planet Elaxorian!” Coran explained as he cheerily entered the room, returning the happy hellos sent his way. 

Hunk put his hands on his hips with a sigh while Pidge and Lance pressed Coran about Norsplogs. “Someone please go find Keith. I don’t want this to get cold.” 

Pidge made to get up, but Allura held a hand out. “Why don’t we just use the intercom?” she asked. Pidge’s eyebrows shot up while Lance’s eyes widened. Allura swore that they started sparkling.

“The  _ what _ now?” he gasped. Coran’s eyes brightened, always happy to teach one of the Paladins something. Allura realized her mistake when Pidge facepalmed.

“Oh no,” she whispered. Pidge nodded.

“You done messed up,” the Green Paladin murmured back. Hunk pressed his lips together as he appeared again, looking like he was trying his best to not smile. Light tendrils of steam curled through the air pleasantly from the dish in his hands.

It was too late to stop it: Coran was already reaching for the intercom talking piece, ready to hand it to Lance. The Red Paladin was already reaching for it, the biggest grin on his face as he was no doubt planning just what he would say to summon the Black Paladin.

“Hey, sorry I’m late!” Keith rushed, brushing into the room with a confused smile as he received relieved greetings from Pidge and Allura, a welcoming “hello” from Coran and Hunk each, and a head thudding into the table from Lance.

“You couldn’t have been five minutes later?” he muttered, head still resting on the table where it had dropped. Keith raised an eyebrow, sitting down next to Coran.

“Sorry?” 

Lance chuckled at the baffled sincerity in Keith’s voice. He pointed a mocking utensil at the team leader. “Don’t you let it happen again, young man.”

Allura felt her own brow furrow. “I thought Keith was older than you, Lance.” 

Lance’s gaze slid to her, very unamused. Allura could still see humor dancing in his eyes, though. She bit down a very not regal snort of laughter as he blandly snipped: “Not helping, Princess.”

“Aw, does Lance not like being younger than Keith?” Pidge teased. Lance stuck his tongue out at her. 

“He’s older than me in physical age, yes,” Lance allowed dramatically, “but there is more than one way to be older than someone other than just age.”

“Sorry Lance, but I think Keith has you in every category but humor,” Hunk admitted, passing filled plates to the rest of the table. Lance grinned.

“I disagree,” Pidge deadpanned. “I’ve seen Lance laugh at his own shoes.”

Coran’s brow furrow as Lance glared at Pidge imperiously. Allura also found herself questioning the validity of Pidge’s claim. Surely even Lance wouldn’t find shoes to be amusing?

“You know what, I’m okay with that,” Lance answered.

“Translation: ‘I don’t have a good comeback to that statement’.”

“I do too! I just want to make sure you, ah, win every now and then. Make sure you don’t get discouraged!”

“When have you  _ ever _ won an argument against me?” 

Keith looked on, confusion written all over his face. Allura caught his eye, hoping that maybe he understood more than she. He shook his head imperceptibly, so Allura turned her gaze towards Coran. He just shrugged. Hunk noticed, giving the two a fond grin as he took his seat.

“Just roll with it.”

***

“Hunk, man,” Lance sighed, “I don’t know how you do it. But this is amazing.”

“You really did a great job, Hunk,” Allura smiled. The Yellow Paladin grinned and looked away, suddenly bashful as the rest of the table’s occupants shared their opinions.

“Aw, you guys know that it’s really not as hard as I make it sound.”

“Hunk, you tried to teach me to cook at least four times before Coran banned me from the kitchen.” Pidge stuffed another bite of food in her mouth, giving her friend what was probably supposed to be an intimidating stare. The effect was, in Allura’s opinion, ruined by her small size and frankly adorable mannerisms. The mouthful of food didn’t do her any intensity favors, either.

“Well yeah, but-” Hunk tried.

_ “Which was _ because I managed to start not one, but  _ five _ separate fires in the kitchen! I don’t think even Shiro has failed that badly!”

It got very quiet after that. Allura watched as Lance’s eyes dimmed, Pidge’s widened, Hunk’s softened, and Keith’s hardened. Coran’s brow creased with concern as all merriment was sucked from the room. 

_ Oh, Shiro…  _

_ We miss you, my friend. _

Allura didn’t know what to do as her family shut down. They hadn’t  _ really _ addressed the loss of Shiro. Sure, they’d found better ways to cope, but that didn’t mean any of them were really ready to face it. 

Allura’s gaze flicked over to Pidge once again as the youngest Paladin’s demeanor shifted ever so slightly, determination setting in her gaze. 

“We can’t keep going like this,” she said quietly. Keith’s head snapped up.

“Like what?” His tone was casual. His demeanor was not. Instantly, Allura knew that the Black Paladin was on the defensive.

“Unsure!” Pidge blurted. “We can’t keep going on with our lives pretending that we’re not all terrified that we don’t know what happened to him! We won’t be able to find him until we know where he went!”

“Pidge,” Hunk warned, voice low and gentle. 

Pidge ignored him. “Keith, we can fight the Galra for the next ten thousand decaphoebs, go to every planet in existence, search for the rest of lives and  _ never find Shiro.” _

“What are you saying, Pidge?” Lance asked, deliberately calm. Keith glared at the table in front of him. 

“I’m saying that we could find out exactly what happened after the battle with Zarkon. We could find out exactly what happened to Shiro!”

Keith scoffed. “What exactly do you think you’re going to find, Pidge? A secret message spelling out his coordinates? A message from Haggar? Shiro’s- Shiro disappeared. Reliving it won’t make finding him any faster.”

Allura bit her cheek, trying to make sense of it all. Coran observed silently, watching the exchange with pained eyes.

“What did you have in mind, Pidge?”Allura asked gently. Keith looked at her harshly.

“You’re seriously considering this?”

“What if we are able to actually find something of use? Even if it yields nothing, wouldn’t we be better equipped knowing what our friend went through?”

“Allura, maybe this isn’t the best idea,” Lance began, obviously deep in thought. “Pidge, we all know that you’re a genius, but I’m not sure if this will do more harm than good.”

“How could it be harmful, Lance? We’d finally get answers!”

Lance looked at her sadly. “And what if those answers aren’t what you want them to be?”

Pidge blinked, face open and vulnerable. “Then at least we’d know! We wouldn’t be sitting here twiddling our  _ fucking _ thumbs waiting for an answer to fall from the  _ fucking _ sky! We could… we could  _ do  _ something! Anything!”

“We  _ are _ doing something!” Keith snapped.

“What we’re doing isn’t working!” Allura countered, knowing that she wasn’t being a good diplomat and also finding that she didn’t care. 

“Pidge,” Hunk joined, eyes closed, “I don’t think this is what Voltron needs.”

“What it  _ ‘needs’ _ is Shiro! Our leader! Hunk, I know we agreed that this wasn’t going to be easy, but we need to know.”

“We know plenty, Pidge,” Lance intervened. “We know that there was a battle. We know that Shiro didn’t leave his lion. We know that there was no bo-  _ no one _ in the Black Lion when we arrived. Forgive me if I’m wrong, but there doesn’t seem to be much else we can get from that information.”

“But you  _ are _ wrong! The castle has technology that could reassemble the energy- the quintessence- of whomever was last in the Lion to proje-”

Keith stood up, slamming his hands on the table. “Enough, Pidge! We’re not doing this!”

“If you’d just  _ listen-” _

“I have listened! And now it’s your turn! We are not messing with this idea. We are not attempting it, we are not discussing it. Shiro is missing and we are going to find him, that is all the facts we need.”

“We don’t know that they’re facts at all, Keith!”

“Dammit, Pidge, they’re facts if I  _ fucking _ say they are!”

“Keith!” Lance snapped.

“Keith, don’t swear at Pidge-” Allura interrupted. Keith glared at her, but didn’t say anything. 

Without another word, the Black Paladin stormed out. Silence fell once again. Allura looked at Coran with wide eyes, trying to see if he had any answers. He wouldn’t meet her gaze, staring intently at the table. Hunk shifted his stance, looking more lost than Allura had ever seen. Pidge was trembling in her seat, but Allura couldn’t figure out if it was anger or distress. Lance looked pained, eyes unfocused with barely contained panic.

No no  _ no- _

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not to them. Not now. 

_ Stars, we need Shiro. _

_ He’d know what to do _ .

Allura had never felt so helpless in her life. On the one hand, she was dying to track Keith down and berate him for speaking to his teammates in such a manner, then reassure him that they’d find Shiro and that he wasn’t alone in this. On the other, she wanted to explain to Pidge that she agreed with the genius, but wasn’t sure if the timing or delivery was right. But she also wanted to hug Hunk. She also wanted to sit Lance down, to make sure that he knew that his family was alright, that they would pull through this, that they would survive.

But she couldn’t do all of that.

Frankly, she wasn’t sure if she could do  _ any  _ of that.

Wasn’t she supposed to be a diplomat?

Her father wouldn’t have been so useless.

Lance turned towards Pidge, opening his mouth to say something.

“Way to be supportive, guys,” Pidge muttered, blinking fast. Hunk reached toward her, but she dodged out of her seat, breezing out of the room.

“Pidge, wait-” he started.

“Fuck off!” she spat back, voice wobbling. 

Lance stood, silently picking up everyone’s now empty plates. “Hunk,” he said softly, “I’ll take care of this. You’re the best person to talk to Pidge- so give her some time and do it when you’re ready, yeah?” The Yellow Paladin nodded wordlessly. Lance grinned, though it was a far cry from it’s normal brilliance. He gently pushed his friend towards the door. “I am not above kicking you out of your own kitchen. Skedaddle.” Lance thought a moment, before softly calling his friend back. “Actually, Hunk?”

Hunk paused in the doorway, looking back with sad eyes. “Yeah?”

“This wasn’t your fault, okay? This wasn’t anyone’s fault.” Something in the broader boy’s expression crumbled, and he took quick steps back to wrap his friend up in a hug. Allura and Coran respectfully averted their eyes, knowing that while the humans likely didn’t care, this was a vulnerable moment for everyone involved. No one wanted to make it worse.

However, that didn’t stop Allura from picking up on the whispered  _ “thank you”  _ into Lance’s shoulder before the two broke apart. They fist bumped then, Lance saying “You can do this, man. Go get her.”

Hunk nodded, and headed once again towards the door.

After Hunk left, Allura rose as well. “Lance, would you like any assistance?”

Lance smiled gratefully at her, once again so much dimmer than she could have ever imagined. He looked… less panicked than before, but where that had faded it had been replaced with weariness. It wasn’t something she had ever equated with the positive, energetic boy. However, at that that moment, his eyes held an exhaustion that was deeper than anyone should have to bear. 

“That’s really nice of you, Princess, but I’ve got it. Plus, you two look like you could use the evening off. I’ll finish up here and then go talk to Keith. Just… take care of yourselves. I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

Coran finally spoke, then, walking over and placing a gentle hand on Lance’s shoulder. “That wasn’t your fault either, Lance. No apologies necessary.” Lance nodded once, smiling at the older Altean. 

Allura and Coran walked out then, heading towards the bridge to get the Castle in order before heading to bed.

“Are you okay?” Allura asked quietly. Coran looked at her sadly. 

“I don’t think any of us are, Princess.”

*******

**_Shiro_ **

Shiro felt sick as he watched his family crack and crumble before his very eyes. 

Somehow, the worst part of it all was that Pidge was right. She always was. Shiro didn’t know how much help it would be for them to understand what happened, but surely his quintessence could give them  _ some _ sort of clue. Maybe she didn’t approach the subject the best way, but Shiro’s heart broke at the tears in her eyes when she left the room. 

She didn’t deserve this.

Keith had left first, shoulders tense and fists clenched. Shiro knew he wasn’t angry at Pidge. Shiro knew that he wasn’t really angry at all. He was lost, and terrified, and barely clinging to hope.

He didn’t deserve this.

Hunk looked so broken when Pidge spat at him, brushing out of the room. Shiro didn’t think he’d ever heard the two quarrel, not seriously. In fact, he’d never once seen any of his team quarrel seriously, especially involving Hunk. Sure, the hug from Lance had certainly helped things, but that didn’t make any of this okay.

Hunk didn’t deserve this.

Allura and Coran left quietly after speaking to Lance. Allura was… distant. She looked like her mind was going seven different directions all at once without one single viable option to choose. Coran was hushed, so vastly different from the jovial Altean “Space Uncle” they’d all come to know and love. Shiro couldn’t bear the pain in his eyes as he spoke to Lance.

They didn’t deserve this.

And Lance… Lance lingered. He cleaned up the kitchen and seating area in dead silence. There was no quiet musing to himself, no rhetorical jokes or questions, no humming or whistling. Nothing. He’d shut down, Shiro realized. 

He didn’t deserve this.

Shiro stood in silent vigil with Lance. Should he have followed one of the others to see what they would do? Probably.

But Shiro found that things tended to get better quickest when he stuck close to Lance. Shiro didn’t know why-- maybe it had something to do with their connection. All he knew was that he needed to stay with Lance for this one. 

When Lance was done cleaning, he leaned over one of the counters, eyes closed. Shiro shifted closer, wishing for the thousandth time that he could do something to ease Lance and his team’s suffering. 

_ “Fuck,” _ Lance whispered, shaking hands clenched on the counter.

“Yeah, you got it in one,” Shiro answered softly.

“What am I supposed to do now?” The hushed question had Shiro looking at the Red Paladin, concern filling his mind. What  _ was _ Lance supposed to do? Shiro couldn’t think of a single solution that would fix everything, at least right now. Keith should never have his hopes threatened like that, and Pidge shouldn’t have to back down when she knows that she’s right.

Shiro sighed. “Your guess is as good as min-  _ ARGH-!” _ Blinding pain shot through his skull once again. 

_ Not another one! _

Shiro stumbled, losing his balance and falling, falling, falling--

No, no, he was  _ running.  _ Shiro was racing through dark, evil hallways with blaster fire on all sides. All he knew was fear, and all he knew to do was  _ run. Escape.  _

_ Fight. _

More soldiers joined the chase with every corner rounded, too many for Shiro to continue to use his Galran arm efficiently with. He spied a blaster nearby and lunged for it. The remaining soldiers didn’t stand a chance.

And then he was running,  _ running-- _

Shiro clawed at his head as white filled his vision once again, awareness tossing him back into his true surroundings. He was on his hands and knees, gasping for breath and trembling as he blinked, trying to find his sight once again like he did outside of the Green Lion’s hanger.

This time he wasn’t nearly as fortunate.

Shiro was tossed into another foreign memory, of an escape pod plummeting through an atmosphere. He screamed, trying to make sense of the chaos around him. Alarms were blaring, screeching the damage done to the pod while schematics flashed violently across screens Shiro wasn’t even going to  _ try  _ comprehending.

It was too much.

_ “Come on, come on!” _ Shiro grit out.

No, no, that wasn’t  _ Shiro _ saying it.

Shiro wasn’t speaking.

But that… that voice… that was  _ his _ voice. That was him. 

This wasn’t like any flashbacks he had of the Arena. That voice may be his, but whomever’s eyes he was seeing out of, they were not his own, Champion or not.

The planet surface was getting closer, a wide expanse of ice and snow filling Shiro’s vision. 

He was thrust back into reality as the pod crashed. Black filled his vision for an instant and the throbbing pain in his head crescendoed for an unbearable moment before fading altogether.

Shiro blinked twice, thrice, four times before he was able to make out the kitchen floor bracing his hands below him. Ringing still filled his ears and his breath came out in frantic gasps.

“What- what was- that-” he wheezed. Lance was behind him still, the Red Paladin’s gentle footsteps reassuring Shiro that he was no longer… wherever he’d just been. 

**_Paladin! Paladin, answer now!_ ** Red growled. Shiro startled, suddenly aware of several voices firing in his mind as the ringing faded. 

“I’m here. I’m good,” Shiro breathed, finally getting a grip. He rose to his feet, relaxing little by little as he took in familiar surroundings.

There was no prison here. There was no pod.

Whatever he was seeing, it wasn’t happening to him.

**_Paladin is safe,_ ** Yellow softly reassured Shiro. He smiled at the gentle reminder, thanking the kind Lion. 

Lance still looked far too troubled as Shiro joined him once again. His hands were still trembling, posture still too tense. 

**_Help Red Paladin,_** Blue whispered. Shiro’s hand hovered over his shoulder, unsure of what to do. 

“How?” Shiro had never seen Lance like this. It was too foreign. The rest of the Paladins, sure. Shiro had at least some experience with their darker days. 

But Lance? Lance was the unsung rock of their group. Always chipper, always talkative, and always himself for better or worse. Even when Voltron had been at their lowest however many cycles ago, Lance had still been… him. Tired, yes. But not desolate. Not listless. 

Not isolated.

Shiro didn’t know how to make Lance feel better when he’d never seen Lance not okay. “Okay” was Lance’s factory setting, Shiro had decided. Lance’s lowest mood  _ was _ “okay.”

**_Talk to him,_ ** Red coached. Blue snorted at the irony, but didn’t comment. 

Shiro inhaled once before setting his hand on (in) Lance’s shoulder as the boy stood in silence. 

“Lance,” he said quietly, “none of what happened was your fault, okay? I know Coran already said that, but for some reason I’m not sure if you took it to heart.” Now that he’d started, Shiro found it easy to talk to the Red Paladin, reassurances flowing from his mouth with ease. He watched as Lance slowly relaxed, eyes widening ever so slightly with confusion. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Lance. But the others need you to help them understand that too. You will get through this, all of you.”

Lance stood for a moment more in silence, face clear of distress, but also clear of understanding. 

“I don’t know what just happened,” he said to the “empty” room, “but thanks. I don’t know who or what I’m thanking, but… but I feel like I know you. Thanks... for whatever you just did.” Without another word, Lance briskly stepped out of the kitchen, no doubt heading for Keith’s room. 

Shiro stared at his hand. “I can’t believe that worked so well.”

**_Lion can’t believe Paladin doesn’t talk with Red Paladin more often with hand,_ ** Green huffed. Shiro’s brow furrowed. Green was right.  **_Would probably have solved several problems by now._ **

…Dammit.

But Shiro kept forgetting that it was an option. He was so used to just watching from the sidelines that speaking through Lance always seemed improbable.

But he’d gotten Shiro’s message basically word for word during their movie day.

This would require a more extensive Plan Seagull experimentation. 

“Lance!” Shiro called, suddenly remembering what he was supposed to be doing. “Wait up!”

*******

**_Lance_ **

Lance turned the corner to the Paladin’s wing, mind still reeling from whatever had happened in the kitchen. It was like… like someone had been reading his mind and suddenly decided to have a mental health seminar with him.

He didn’t mind, truth be told he was very grateful.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t just a little bit concerned over how and why that had happened.

Because he’d been having that feeling a lot recently. His dream about Shiro, the feeling of assurance he’d gotten in Shiro’s room over Pidge’s laptop, how comfortable he was in the Black Lion’s hanger, the random memory of the Seagull Song, the sudden surety that Shiro was proud of them-

Lance froze outside of Keith’s door.

Shiro.

It was all connected to Shiro (okay, maybe not the seagull one, but Lance was willing to overlook that.)

Lance shook his head. This was ridiculous. All those weird feelings, they weren’t being caused by Shiro. Shiro wasn’t even  _ there. _

But what if he was?

What if Shiro  _ was _ in the Castle with them… but as a ghost?

Lance scoffed at himself. Yup. Shiro was anti-haunting them, bestowing good vibes upon all of Voltron.

He must be losing it. 

“Keith,” he called quietly, not wanting to disturb the quiet hallway if Keith hadn’t gone to his room. Lance was hoping he had, though. He wasn’t in the mood for a therapy spar against Keith at the moment. 

“Not now, Lance.” Oh good, Lance had guessed correctly.

“Sorry, Keith, but I’m going to have to disagree.” Lance didn’t bother giving the team leader any warning before opening the door. If it was truly a bad time, Keith would have given that as a reason instead of “not now.” 

All that that meant was that Keith was stewing in his own emotions and didn’t want anyone slowing his emo roll.

Obviously, Lance couldn’t let that happen.

“Lance!” Keith growled as Lance stepped into the room, not paying his friend any mind until he was comfortably settled against the wall adjacent to the bed. He’d found that it was easier to approach difficult conversations when he was physically below Keith. He was no psychology expert, but had a feeling it had something to do with the whole “male dominance” thing Pidge loved to throw in his face. Like he’d figured out with Tired Keith: if Keith felt that he was in control, then he was less likely to shut down when the conversation got hard.

Plus, Lance loved sitting on the floor but that was obviously not at all a factor here.

“Keith,” Lance said finally, looking up at Keith, “you’re festering.”

“What? No, I’m not.”

“Fine. Brooding.”

“No-!”

“Moping.”

“Lance!”

“Marinating.”

“You know that’s not how that word is supposed to be used.”

“Maybe. But I didn’t hear you deny it.”

“Lance, seriously-”

“Talk to me, Keith,” Lance interrupted. He angled his head so he could see all of Keith’s face from where the black-haired boy sat on his bed, Blade of Marmora knife in hand. 

“What?”

“Back there, in the kitchen. There were a lot of things left unsaid. I want to know what they were.”

“Why?” 

“I didn’t know I was talking with the twenty question’s world champ,” Lance muttered, more for his own amusement than anything else. Keith bristled though so Lance quickly moved on. “You and I both know that you internalize literally everything, and then eventually explode in a flurry of old arguments and oddly creative swears. You told Pidge it was her turn to listen, and now it’s mine. Tell me what’s going on in that edgy mind of yours.”

An awkward moment of silence followed, and for a second, Lance was afraid Keith had already shut down. 

“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say,” the Black Paladin said after a moment. “Pidge is losing faith, Hunk is lost, Allura is torn, Coran is silent, you’re never going to change, and I…” Keith sighed. “I don’t know what to do. I know we haven’t lost him, but the idea of trying to, to prove it? To call our own bluff? That’s too risky, Lance. What if we’re wrong?” Keith stopped then, making eye contact with Lance as cue for “say something, dumbass”

Lance swallowed, weighing his options. 

Option one, agree with Keith and then gently steer him towards a more logical conclusion

Option two, Keith likes bluntness. Time for open debate.

Yeah, best to not try and manipulate Keith.

“But what if we’re right?” Lance said. Keith stiffened. “What if our answer really is in the Black Lion? I’ve never known Pidge to be wrong, especially when it comes to her family.”

“What are you saying, Lance?”

“I’m saying I think we need to try it.”

“Why? So we can pour our resources and hopes into a single experiment with no guarantees?!”

“They need to know, Keith,” Lance gently reminded Keith. “They’re scientists. They can’t exist solely on hope. If they think they have a solution, then they have to try.”

Keith was silent for another moment. “You never answered my question, though: what if we’re wrong?” he asked hoarsely.

Lance didn’t know  _ how _ to answer that question. “Then it’ll be like Pidge said: then we’d know. Then we can.. Move forward. Keep fighting.” Lance debated telling Keith about his weird feelings, lost in thought and blind to the growing horror on Keith’s face.

“‘Move forward’?!” the current Black Paladin hissed. “What the hell do you mean ‘Move forward,’ Lance?!”

Lance froze. 

Oh shit.

That’s not what he meant.

“Do you think we’d just  _ move on _ from Shiro? That we’d… that we’d just  _ forget  _ after a little while?”

_ Shit shit shit shit ABORT MISSION- _

“No Keith- that’s not what I meant! You know that!”

“Do I, Lance? Do I really? You weren’t exactly helpful in there when I was defending myself! Defending Shiro!”

“What- I was on your side! I  _ am _ on your side, Keith! I don’t know why you’re being so stubborn about this!”

“So what then, the whole backing me up with the others was for show?! Because you sure as hell aren’t backing me up right now! This is  _ Shiro _ we’re talking about. We shouldn’t even be  _ considering _ Pidge’s plan!”

This was. The most  _ roundabout _ argument Lance had ever had. He and Keith were literally talking circles. But Keith was speaking about this like it was going to put Shiro’s safety at risk!

He needed to make Keith understand. He couldn’t abort mission now, not when Keith was being so (aggressively) open about his thoughts.

“What happened to being a team, huh Keith? What happened to doing things together?! Are we really going to pretend that Shiro  _ wouldn’t _ be the first person to back this plan if it were  _ any  _ of us?! Don’t you think he’d want-”

_ “ _ DON’T TELL ME WHAT SHIRO WOULD WANT!” Keith roared, rising to his feet and glaring at the Red Paladin. Lance sighed, rising from his seated position as well. 

“And what then, you think he’d want  _ this?” _

“He’d want someone who supports him in everything! Someone who isn’t two-faced!”

_ Two-faced? That’s a new one. _

“Keith, I will back you until the day I die. But you and I both know that you need to get your head out of your ass and see the real picture. This experiment... you’re being obstinant for no reason other than your own fears.”

“I’m not afraid, Lance. I never was.”

“Weren’t you?” Lance crossed his arms across his chest. “You’ve been preaching that we need to believe in Shiro and that you know he isn’t gone. But you’re too afraid to test it, aren’t you?”

“No I’m not,” Keith growled.

“Your Honor, I object.”

“You’re being an ass.”

“And you’re acting like a child,” Lance retorted. “Doesn’t change the fact that I’m right and you’re just not willing to concede.”

“What would you know, Lance?! All you do is play sides. Nothing you do is genuinely helpful! You put band-aids on gaping wounds and pretend that everything will be okay! Newsflash, Lance! You haven’t fixed  _ shit.” _

...wow.

That hurt. 

Maybe this wasn’t a good conversation to pursue today.

“What am I supposed to be doing, Keith? Catering to your every command? I’m already doing that plenty these days.”

Keith’s eyes darkened. 

Lance mentally smacked himself. 

_ Stop talking! What are we doing?! _

At least Keith would probably get a win for the day.

_ Shit shit shit shit shit shit Lance you’re an idiot-- _

“Oh, that’s right, Lance,” he sneered, “you don’t have anything _ actually useful _ to do with your time.” Keith’s voice began to raise in volume with every word, anger and emotional pain winning over the Black Paladin’s already questionable control. “Too bad you aren’t capable enough to help the team in any way. I guess I should be thankful that you aren’t trying anything important that’ll eventually fuck us all over again!” 

Lance was silent for a few moments, watching Keith’s face.

Was he seriously going there?

_ Nope. Fuck it.  _

“Are you  _ fucking  _ serious?” he whispered. “That’s where you want to go right now,  _ Team Leader?” _

Keith’s eyes widened ever so slightly. “Lance-”

“No. No, I’m done. I’m not going to bother arguing with you, but Pidge had an idea and you’re our leader. We’re all floundering; the least you can do is get a  _ damn  _ grip before you tear into another one of your teammates.” Lance leaned closer to Keith, glaring at the shorter teen. He let himself mimic Keith, voice raising with every word. “If you want to nix it,  _ fine.  _ I’ll support you  _ like I always do. _ But you need a better reason than a fucking  _ ‘what if’.  _ She deserves better than that.  _ Shiro _ deserves better than that.”

Lance didn’t wait for a reply as he brushed past Keith, fists angrily clenched at his sides.

_ Dammit. _

_ That’s not what I wanted. _

“Lance, wait-”

“Forget I said anything. I need to go apologize to Pidge. You might want to consider doing the same.”

“But-”

“Goodnight Keith.”

The door closed behind the Red Paladin before Keith even had the chance to say anything in response. 

*******

**_Shiro_ **

It had happened again.

Another flashback.

This time, Shiro had been fighting this huge monster. It had burst from a seemingly innocuous paradise in the middle of that same white wasteland. He’d been losing, miserably, when the beast retreated back into the small lake after two aliens shot it. 

Another blackout.

He’d “opened” his eyes to a dark cave with moss and lichen draped amid the snow. A single light source shown from an opening in the cave roof. Shiro had been dangling from his wrists, feet unable to touch the ground. There’d been voices, but he couldn’t make them out.

Yet somehow that was the better reality for Shiro at the moment.

Keith and Lance... God, Shiro didn’t ever want to see that again. 

It was just like the fight less than a varga ago… but this time there was no one to travel between, to help mend things.

Shiro couldn’t even be upset with them. He’d already lost his cool long before his team. 

But it hurt, seeing this. It really really hurt. 

Things were supposed to be better now. Lance, Pidge, Keith, Hunk, Coran, Allura; this wasn’t supposed to be happening to them! 

Keith stared silently after Lance as the door shut with a clean whoosh. 

“It really does move so much better now,” Keith whispered in the soundless room. Shiro’s hand clenched at his side. Lance had been so proud when he finally got that blasted door fixed.

Keith’s head dropped into his hands. 

“Ugh. What am I  _ doing?”  _ the teen moaned, falling back into his bed. “‘Two-faced’?! ‘Nothing you do is genuinely helpful’?! What the hell was I saying?!” 

Shiro put his flesh hand on Keith’s shoulder, trying to offer support that he knew Keith would never receive.

“He didn’t deserve that,” Keith whispered. “Some leader I am.” 

And with that, the Black Paladin rolled over to his pillow without another word.

Shiro moved to leave, but a familiar building in his head stopped him.

_ Not again! _

**_Paladin? Another one?!_ ** Black exclaimed. Shiro nodded through gritted teeth as his view changed once again

Time had passed in the memory. Shirio was face to face to two aliens. There was a bowl of something warm in his hands, and an easy conversation flowing between him and the aliens.

“...sorry for hanging you up by your wrists,” the taller of the aliens was saying. Shiro felt himself nod.

“Thanks. Sorry for hitting you in the face with your friend’s gun.” There it was again: his voice.

But Shiro didn’t know these aliens!

Maybe he was seeing premonitions.

_ I hope not. _

“Meh,” the alien answered. “Wasn’t the first time it happened, won’t be the last.”

The smaller alien, Vakala, Shiro’s mind suddenly realized, joined the conversation then. “Shiro, there just doesn’t seem to be any way to get you to Thayserix.”

Thayserix? What?

Shiro didn’t have time to contemplate as his mouth was moving without his control again. “What about the Galran Cruiser heading to it?”

“What about it?” Vakala asked.

“Well, if it’s passing close enough to this planet, maybe I can hitch a ride.”

Both aliens looked at Memory-Him as though he’d become a lobster.

“Hitch a ride on a Galran cruiser?!” Vakala squeaked.

“You just escaped from a Galran cruiser, and now you’re talking about breaking back onto one?” the other alien balked. “You’re crazier than me! And I volunteered to live on an ice planet for five years!”

“Is it possible or not?” Memory-Him pressed.

Vakala’s expression turned thoughtful. “The cruiser is currently within range, but it’s gonna make a jump to hyper-drive any time now.”

Shiro felt something steel inside of Memory-Not-Really-Him. “Than I’d better hurry.”

Shiro didn’t have a chance to prepare himself as his mind once again was blinded by pain, flashes of images the only reprieve for the duration. He was suddenly in the alien’s ship. He was in a different suit. The ship was firing up.

He was turning, unfamiliar words once again pouring from his mouth. “Thank you for all your help.”

The ship rumbled beneath him, still preparing to blast off.

Shiro- no, Memory Shiro- gasped.

Scratch that.

The ship  _ had _ blasted off.

_ Where was he going? _

_ Where was he? _

The more Shiro’s mind became his own, the more the pain in his head throbbed. It was grounding in a twisted sort of way. It gave Shiro a chance to note how annoying this was getting before he was sucked back into the fray.

He didn’t know what Keith was doing. Hopefully, the teen hadn’t left Shiro alone in the room.

The older brother in Shiro worried that Keith shouldn’t be alone right then.

The cruiser was rocketing through space the minute Shiro blinked. The throbbing in his mind ebbed marginally, allowing Shiro to better take in the scene around him. Words floated through his head, something about the ship not being capable of space travel.

_ Why was he in this death trap then?! _

_ This was not somewhere he wanted to be! _

And then it hit him. 

Better said, the _ Galran cruiser  _ dead-ahead blasted Memory-Shiro’s cruiser to bits. 

Memory-Shiro rocketed forward, using the explosion to propel himself into the opening where the exterior weapons were stored. He rolled to a stop, hiding in an outcropping in the wall.

He was back on a Galran cruiser. 

A sick sense of nausea filled Shiro at the deja vu of it all.

No.

Wait.

_ He wasn’t on a cruiser again; Memory-Shiro was.  _

_ He was not Memory-Shiro.  _

_ These are not his memories. _

Shiro was snapped out of his frantic thoughts as Memory-Shiro snapped to attention.

It was the cruiser’s intercom. A crackling voice echoed through the sickly purple hallway:  _ “Exiting hyper-drive. Shields up. We’re under attack! We have a visual on Voltron. Voltron is within range.” _

“Voltron?”

_ Voltron?! _

**_***_ **

**_Lance_ **

Lance wandered blindly through the halls, knowing where he was going but also paying his destination no mind. All of the zen the alleged Shiro-the-friendly-ghost had given Lance earlier was long gone.

Why was it whenever Lance tried to mend things for his family, something always went wrong?

Even when he ordered them all a rest day! None of them had really gotten any sleep! Sure, four vargas was good. But what was Lance thinking, playing that off as a restful night?!

Idiot.

He’d tried to keep things calm between skirmishes, and outside of meetings. 

_ “Tried”  _ being the key phrase. 

In all honesty, Lance didn’t really do much. It was all Allura; she was the diplomat, and she was great at it. 

And whatever that meal had just been?!

Lance had never been witness to an argument that bad. Not for a long time. He never wanted to hear anything like it ever again. 

He’d tried to help by taking the minority side of things, figuring that Hunk and Allura would have Pidge covered.

That… that didn’t happen. 

But then he couldn’t change sides because then he’d be living up to what Keith had…

_ Dios. _

_ “Two faced” _

This was all so wrong.

This wasn’t how things were supposed to be.

_ “Too bad you aren’t capable enough to help the team in any way” _

Lance shivered quietly, reliving the sneer on Keith’s face. He shouldn’t be taking it to heart- obviously Keith had had a very hard day. Lance knew that he probably didn’t mean it, but…

But what if he did?

_ No, no, I’m being ridiculous. _

Was it though? Was it really ridiculous to consider that maybe he wasn’t as helpful as he thought?

Lance shook his head, forcing the dark thoughts away as Pidge and Hunk’s workspace came into view. He took the lack of yelling and/or cursing as a good sign. The Red Paladin kept his steps quiet as he stepped through the door, not wanting to call attention to himself should something positive be happening between his best friends. 

It was weirdly refreshing to be right about something good for once.

Hunk and Pidge were comparing notes, chatting quietly and cracking jokes as they worked side-by-side. Lance grinned softly, leaning against the wall to take in the scene. Hunk leaned back slightly to pop his neck left and right. His eyes flashed to Lance’s and the larger boy’s face lit up.

“Lance!” he cried. Pidge’s attention snapped up at his name. “How long have you been standing there, man? Come join us!”

Something in Pidge’s eyes was guarded, worried even. Oddly enough, Hunks eyes were concerningly similar. With a start, Lance remembered the major reason he’d needed to find the geniuses.

“Hi, guys,” he began casually, approaching the two. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah!” Hunk answered brightly. Pidge nodded silently.

“That’s great!” Lance agreed, coming to stand behind his friends. “What are you two up to?”

“We’re comparing schematics between our Lions -- I want to see if we can give Yellow any extra stealth.” 

Honestly, that’d be great. Lance was always passively worried enough for Hunk during battles, and as tough as Yellow was, Lance would honestly feel better if both he  _ and _ Pidge had some extra protection as far as stealth. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the geniuses to take care of themselves, just... Yellow wasn’t exactly the most subtle color.

“Is it going well so far?” 

“Yeah,” Pidge said quietly. 

Lance chewed on his lip idly as an awkward silence fell in the room.

_ Pidge must hate me. _

_ I should have supported her more. _

Lance didn’t know how, though. He was Keith’s right hand. He couldn’t have just left Keith out to dry.

_ This is such a mess. _

“Pidge,” he said softly. The younger woman tensed ever so slightly. “I’m sorry.”

Pidge whipped around, looking at Lance with wide eyes. “What?”

Lance looked down at his feet, toes curling in his shoes in embarrassment. “You were right, back there. We need to know what happened to Shiro. I’m sorry I didn’t back you up like I should have.”

Pidge looked at Hunk. Hunk just stared at Lance. Lance chose to not comment, unsure of what exactly that meant for him.

Honestly, at this point he was praying he didn’t get yelled at again. Something told Lance that Pidge didn’t have her yelling face on, but he also knew that if he got pulled into one more argument today he would have a meltdown.

Today really hadn’t been his day.

“Lance,” Pidge said finally, “you... you don’t have to apologize at all.”

“No, no I do. And I’m glad you and Hunk are good.” Lance froze a second. “You two  _ are _ good, right?”

“Yeah! Pidge and I are good,” Hunk answered.

_ Oh thank quiznak. _

“So…” Lance started awkwardly, “we’re okay then? All of us?” He really needed to hear someone say it.

“We always were, Lance. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Pidge explained hurriedly. 

“Yeah, man. No one was mad at you or anything,” Hunk jumped in.

Lance couldn’t fight back a small scoff. Pidge’s face darkened ever so slightly. “...Right? No one was mad at you?”

_ Oops. _

“Yeah! Sorry! That, uh, that made me think of this really old joke Veronica and I used to have whenever she’d- um- she’d do the… you know it really is something you’d have to have been there to understand.”

_ Real smooth, sharpshooter.  _

Hunk’s forehead creased. “Are you okay, Lance? You’re welcome to hang out with us for a while.”

As much as Lance wanted to, and  _ Dios,  _ he really wanted to, there was too much on his mind. He didn’t want to ruin their fun with his mess of thoughts and problems. Plus, he needed to go check on Coran and Allura.

He smiled sadly, hoping they wouldn’t really notice. “I’d love to, guys, but I have some other things I need to take care of before I go to bed.”

“Are you sure?” Hunk asked, making to stop Lance.

“I’m sure.”

“Well… if you finish early, feel free to come back,” Pidge offered. Lance grinned at her. 

“Thanks Pidgeon.”

Lance left quickly after that, feeling lighter than he had all day.

*******

**_Pidge_ **

Pidge and Hunk watched silently as Lance retreated from the room.

“Honestly, I don’t know what else we were expecting,” she noted drily. Hunk shifted uncomfortably.

“I can’t believe he didn’t tell us,” the mechanical genius mused. Pidge scoffed.

“Really? It’s  _ Lance. _ Mr. ‘I-spent-an-entire-night-and-day-chasing-my-teammates-around-without-bothering-to-take-care-of-myself-or-’”

Hunk gave her a look. 

“Not that I’m bitter, or anything,” she muttered. Hunk rubbed his face tiredly, giving her a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. 

“Did he really think we couldn’t hear them talking?” he asked. Pidge shrugged. At this point, she couldn’t say she was surprised. Those two had always been prone to… enthusiastic conversations, to put it lightly.

But the fact that they’d quarreled… over  _ her _ this time. 

That was a new one.

Pidge was still angry with Keith -- she’d never been angry with Lance or Hunk (she had to pointedly ignore the stab of guilt that they were the ones she snapped at). Keith was the one that had hurt her, and he was the one person she knew she’d probably never get an apology out of. Pidge and Hunk hadn’t been able to catch the entire conversation, but both knew what had probably happened. Like Pidge said; it was  _ Lance.  _

But what bothered her the most right now was how quiet it got immediately after. How quietly Lance entered the room. How quietly he’d carried himself. Sure, Lance wasn’t nearly as boisterous as he maybe had once been, but just now he’d looked… old. The kind of old Pidge normally equated with Shiro.

It really didn’t suit Lance.

“Well done playing dumb, though, Hunk. Nice acting.”

“I don’t like lying to him,” Hunk fretted. Pidge rolled her eyes.

“We didn’t  _ lie _ . We just didn’t tell him we knew.”

“That’s called lying by omission, Pidge. My grandmother used to hate that. It was her number one pet peeve.” Hunk shuddered, seemingly caught in a memory.

Frankly, Pidge didn’t like lying to him either. 

“Do  _ you _ want to tell him literally the entire Castle heard his pissing match with Keith?” she asked coyly. Hunk stiffened.

“No way,” the Yellow Paladin declared. “You saw how worried he was about you being angry with him. I’m not going to put him in the spotlight again like that.”

Pidge nodded in agreement. “Besides,” she mused, “that seems like it was meant to be a more private conversation.”

“Yeah.” A moment passed. 

“Do you think he’s okay?” Hunk had his arms crossed, worry creasing his forehead.

Pidge debated lying to her friend to put his mind at ease.

_ No, Hunk deserves honesty. _

“No. No I don’t,” she decided. “Frankly, I don’t blame him.”

Hunk murmured in agreement as another stretch of silence fell between the two.

Pidge looked up, trying to decipher the look on Hunk’s face.

“What?” she questioned after a beat.

Hunk tapped his finger against his chin three times. “Do you think we should go talk to Keith?”

“And put up with his temper right now?  _ Fuck _ no. You’re welcome to, though.”

Hunk paled, and Pidge found herself fighting a grin. “No, no,” he conceded. “You’re right. Probably best we leave him be until tomorrow after he’s had a chance to sleep.”

“And eat,” Pidge added. 

“I’ll make his favorite for breakfast.”

And even though she was pissed with the current Black Paladin, Pidge found herself nodding vigorously. “I think that’d be for the best.”

**_***_ **

**_Shiro_ **

Was it wrong that Shiro was hoping for another memory/vision/nightmare?

He had a suspicion that he was really hoping was wrong.

So far he’d managed to listen to Keith verbally berate himself before settling down for the night, follow Lance down the hall to Pidge and Hunk’s workspace, witness the mending of a relationship that had apparently never been broken (not that he was complaining -- the last thing those three needed was drama between them), and on a whim stick around to listen to Hunk and Pidge give their thoughts on the situation.

Those two were too smart and nosy for their own good.

Although, Shiro found himself really appreciating their common sense in refraining from calling Lance out and waiting to confront Keith again. The ship needed a quiet evening.

Shiro didn’t stick around with Pidge and Hunk long after that, electing to see what else Lance still had to do. He thought the Red Paladin would want to hang out with his friends; they hadn’t really had the chance to do that a lot recently. 

By the time he found Lance, the boy was leaving the common room, a cheery “Goodnight Lance!” chorusing behind him as he waved in return with a warm smile. 

Allura and Coran must be okay, then.

Lance slowed to a stop once the door closed behind him, a heavy sigh pulling from the teen as he leaned back against the wall.

“At least four of the six are doing okay tonight.”

Lance looked… so tired. Far too tired for someone of his age, and someone who’d managed to get four of six paladins through a very hard argument. 

He didn’t look proud of himself, or relieved, like Shiro would hope. He just looked lost. Just like he had immediately after dinner when Keith stormed out.

**_Paladin,_ ** Green said softly. 

“I got it,” Shiro agreed.

Without hesitation, the former Black Paladin pressed his flesh hand flush against Lance’s shoulder.

“Go back to your friends, Lance,” he said firmly. “You need the company.”

Lance didn’t answer him directly, but the teen shook his head. He ran a hand through his bangs. “It’s probably best that I get my head on straight before I attempt anything  _ useful.”  _ Something in Lance’s vision darkened slightly as he muttered the last word.

Shiro winced. He really needed to talk to Keith about keeping his nasty comments to himself. Hopefully Keith would have the sense to apologize tomorrow morning.

Lance really needed it.

Speaking of, the Red Paladin pushed himself off the wall, heading in the direction of the Red and Black Lion hangers. He made a left at the second hallway he passed, hands stuffed in his pocket and eyes still too dark.

_ Black, we’re headed your way. _

**_Good. Sounds like Lions missed much._ **

_ You have  _ no _ idea. _

***

THe next vision/flashback/premonition happened after Lance and Shiro arrived in the Black Lions hangar. Lance had been sitting silently on the ground for four doboshes after politely asking the Black Lion if she’d mind him hiding in the corner while he got his thoughts in order. The fact that he still felt he needed to ask always pulled a smile from Shiro. Black always told Shiro that  **_of course Red Paladin always welcome. Always._ **

Every. Time.

Shiro smirked to himself. Someone was growing a soft spot for a certain Cuban.

The other Lions found that far funnier than the “someone” in question.

Shiro had been feeling a headache building for a bit now, so he wasn’t entirely shocked when -- once again -- his head suddenly burst into pain and color. Truth be told, he was sort of glad that it had finally happened (God, that was so messed up), especially after Voltron joined the mix. Maybe it had something that would help his team.

He was back where he’d left off- on the Galran cruiser. Time had apparently passed a bit. Now, he was in a hanger full of fighter jets.

The voice came back overhead, and Shiro felt himself jump with its arrival.  _ “Prepare Fighter Squadron One for Immediate Deployment.” _

Memory Shiro raced forward, a spike of panic filling his thoughts. Shiro watched as “he” leapt up, popping down into a fighter jet and forcibly tossing the occupant out of the cabin. The soldier fell behind the fighter, thankfully unnoticed, with a dull  _ thunk. _

Memory-Shiro was practically buzzing in his seat. “Come on,” he muttered. “Send the fighters. Let’s go!”

_ Come on.  _

Shiro needed to know what happened next. He needed to know what these were. He knew they were important -- they  _ had  _ to be.

Shiro and Memory-Shiro reacted in unison as the intercom returned.

_ “Voltron is out of range. Fighters, abort launch. I repeat, abort launch!” _ the voice shrilled. Memory-Shiro grit his teeth, quicking powering the fighter up. 

“It’s now or never!” he bit out.

Shiro couldn’t find the care to separate himself. Maybe it  _ was _ him -- didn’t matter right now. 

The fighter jet roared to life, blasting all nearby fighter jets to bits under Memory-Shiro’s control. 

Shiro felt himself reel as Memory-Shiro rocketed out of the now destroyed hanger into…

Chaos. 

Pure, uncontrollable, chaos.

Debri sailed through empty space, propelled by random explosions. Half-destroyed fighter jets drifted aimlessly, some colliding with the atmosphere of nearby planets and burning up, others bumping into each other and combusting.

Dead ahead stood Voltron in all their glory. Memory-Shiro gasped. 

“Voltron!” he cried, slamming the controls and directing the ship as it zoomed forward. 

Voltron didn’t see, though. 

The fighter jet wasn’t fast enough to catch their notice as they left the battle.

“Come on!” Memory-Shiro growled. “Ugh! He’s too fast for me!”

A wormhole opened in front of Voltron. 

Voltron disappeared.

“NO!”

The vision cleared with Memory-Shiro’s desperate yell. Shiro came back to himself kneeling on the floor in a still silent hanger.

That one... That one had been hard. 

However, not for what had happened to Memory-Shiro. No because he had to witness a battle on a Galran cruiser. Not because of the chaos in the battle.

No, the issue  _ was _ the battle. 

Those nearby planets, that particular Galran base.

He  _ knew _ that battle. He’d watched that battle nearly seven days ago! Black had begun to let him manifest in the pilot’s cabin with Keith, and Shiro found it to be monumental in relieving worries for his team. It was oddly freeing, flying with Keith and Black again. 

But that battle… Voltron had won and left without incident. In fact, they’d arrived back at the Castle and had a movie night to celebrate. Nothing out of the ordinary had at all happened.

It was as Shiro thought: they  _ were _ memories. But they weren’t  _ his _ memories.

None of the Lions answered when he asked again about the visions.

***

It took one hundred and forty-seven ticks after Shiro finally got his mind calmed for Lance to suddenly break the silence in Black’s hangar. Shiro jumped slightly from where he sat, having been so deep in his own thoughts that he’d forgotten Lance was with him.

“I think the Castle is haunted,” he blurted. Shiro balked, gaze whipping to the seated teen still tucked in his preferred corner. “And I don’t think it’s anything like the day with Allura’s father going wacko or anything. I think it has something to do with Shiro.”

Shiro stared in shock.

_ What? _

From the half-form sounds in his mind, Shiro could guess that the others were on a similar train of thought.

Lance’s hands found the sleeves of his jacket, fingers deftly toying with the fabric as he spoke. “Like, I’ve been getting these weirdly specific feelings of comfort and warmth ever since he went missing. Plus, I can pretty much connect them all to him in some way.” Lance looked up, and Shiro’s breath caught at the sincerity and trust in his gaze. “I don’t think he’s lost somewhere in the Galaxy, Black. I think he’s here, on the ship.”

**_Paladin,_ ** Blue breathed. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m with you,” Shiro agreed.

_ He really just- _

“I wasn’t entirely sure of it until dinner today. Pidge mentioned some technology that would allow us to see what happened to Shiro’s quintessence during the battle with Zarkon. I think that Shiro -- be it by magic or your abilities, Black -- was sucked into another… another dimension? Plane of existence? Something cool that Pidge and Hunk would understand,” the boy amended quickly. “Doesn’t matter. The point is, I think Shiro’s haunting the Castle while we look for him, and I think that you know that I’m right.”

Silence fell as Lance’s eyes became thoughtful once more.

“Then again,” he said quietly after a moment, “maybe I’m projecting, Black. Maybe I’m forcing something to work out because nothing else has so far. Today was…. Today was less than ideal. Actually,” Lance scoffed quietly, “today  _ sucked. _ The team fought during dinner, Pidge got mad at Hunk, Keith… Keith was himself, and Allura and Coran were stuck in the middle of it all!

“And I…  _ Dios, _ I really didn’t do anything right, did I?” Lance laughed quietly and without humor. “I’m not sure how I feel about the Mullet being right about that.” A flash dripped down Lance’s cheek, unheeded by the boy. 

Shiro clenched his fist, deciding to sit in front of Lance on the floor so he could see exactly what emotions were playing across his face. A very large part of him was aching to reach out and do what he did to Lance in the kitchen to make him feel better, but something told him that this was something Lance really needed to say in its entirety.

“I know that it sounds crazy, Black, but… but I’m also really hoping that it’s true. Not that I would ever want him to  _ ever  _ be in a situation like that, but at least he wouldn’t be… alone? I guess? At least then he’d still have you guys, even if he can’t reach any of us. If you had a hand -- paw? -- in keeping him safe, then surely you know where he is, right?”

Lance drew his knees up to his chest, eyes shining in the hanger lights.

“I don’t suppose any of you could bother to tell Lance what’s going on?” Shiro guessed sourly, not sure how much longer he’d be able to watch this. 

**_No,_ ** Red said firmly.  **_My Paladin can not know, not from Lions. Not from Paladin._ **

“Why not?!” Shiro exclaimed, thoroughly done with the whole situation.

**_Not safe,_ ** Black answered. 

Shiro nearly snapped back, nearly fired up an incredibly common conversation between him and his (former) Lion. But something stopped him. This wasn’t like the other times they’d hashed this out.

This was disturbingly different.

Black wasn’t referring to Shiro this time when she answered. No, she was talking about  _ Lance. _ It wasn’t safe for  _ Lance _ to know about Shiro.

What on earth was going on here?

What were the Lions so afraid of?

What weren’t they telling Shiro?

“Why can’t you at least tell  _ me,  _ then?! Let me help keep everyone safe!”

**_Paladin is,_ ** Black answered simply.  **_Paladin help; stay safe._ **

Shiro just mentally glared.

“Real helpful.”

There was a pause, Lance strangely silent still. 

Then Blue seemed to sigh.  **_Soon, Paladin,_ ** she said.  **_Understand soon._ **

As uninformative as it truly was, Shiro found the Lion’s words to be the most comforting thing he’d heard all week. He sent a wave of gratitude her way and could feel her satisfaction glowing softly. Black snorted, unhappy with Blue’s divulgence.

“The thing is,” Lance continued abruptly, “we need to find your Paladin, Black. We won’t last long like this. There’s just no way. The Coalition needs him.  _ You  _ need him. Voltron needs him. Keith said… Keith said that everything that I- that  _ we  _ \-- do to fix things is about as useful as a bandaid on a ‘gaping wound’.” Lance’s hands rose briefly to make air quotes, a bitter note in his voice as he said the words. “Shiro is that wound! We don’t have a chance of healing it without him.”

Shiro’s jaw clenched.

“More than that,” Lance continued, “we need  _ Shiro _ back. Not just our leader, not just your pilot,  _ Shiro. _ We aren’t ourselves without him. Keith is a great leader! Really, he is! I’m still not sure if he wants to be, though. I keep hoping that he’ll get comfortable with it and grow to enjoy it, but that has yet to happen. Honestly, I don’t blame him.

“The Castle is too quiet without him.  _ We’re _ too quiet; too lost. Pidge needs her older brother back. Not just… Matt? I think?” Lance shook his head, getting back on track. “Shiro understands Pidge in a way none of us ever will. The same goes for Keith!  _ Dios, _ I think I’m worried about him the most, actually,” Lance confessed. “None of us were ready to face the universe without Shiro leading the charge, but Keith least of all. I don’t know much about him, but I know that he and Shiro were like me and Veronica or Rachael.

“I can’t imagine what he’s going through right now.” Lance rubbed a hand across his eyes. “I messed up with Keith today, Black. I’m not proud of it. I thought I knew what I was doing, but I’m beginning to realize that I don’t. I  _ don’t _ know what we’re supposed to do. I don’t know how we’re going to get Shiro back. I don’t know how the team is going to survive this war without him.”

“Lance you need to trust yourself,” Shiro whispered. “You know what you’re doing; you’ve already done so much good.”

“And.... and I don’t know how the others are fairing. I don’t even know how  _ Hunk _ is faring -- how sad is that?” Lance buried his head in his hands, taking a shaky breath.

“Black…” Shiro started lowly, itching to reach out.

**_Do not, Paladin,_ ** the Lion reprimanded. 

“Do you know what I  _ do _ know?” Lance inquired quietly. “I know that I miss him.” Shiro found himself furiously blinking as the Red Paladin went on. “I know that… that Shiro and I weren’t close. How could we be? He’s  _ Takashi Shirogane.  _ He’s my  _ hero. _ I’m just a kid from Cuba.

“And maybe we never will be close, Black. But… that’s okay with me. I’m just so glad to call him my teammate, maybe even a friend. Black… we need him.  _ I  _ need him. I need someone who can tell me what’s going on. Someone who knows what in quiznack to do, or at least someone who can act like they do.” Shiro found himself laughing along with Lance, even as the former Black Paladin pointedly ignored the wetness in his eyes. “I can’t do this much longer, Black,” Lance admitted. “I can’t keep pretending that everything will be okay because I don’t  _ know _ if it will! Voltron was formed because of Shiro. Shiro brought us together, and if we don’t find him soon, we’re going to fall apart from the loss of him. 

“I don’t know if Pidge’s plan would work. We may never be able to test it. Black, please, help us bring him back. I can’t explain how it would happen, I don’t know if it really is Shiro, but I just know it has to be him!” A tear dripped down Lance’s face. It was not the only one to have appeared during this, but it’s the one Shiro fixated on, trying to ground himself in Lance’s words. “It… it  _ has  _ to,” the boy whispered.

Shiro wiped at his eyes, struck silent. The Lions were silent in his mind, too. Shiro had figured out that there was something more than respect in Lance’s gaze the first time they met, but… Lance’s  _ hero? _ After everything that Lance just said about their relationship, he still felt that Shiro deserved to be his hero? 

Shiro sat for a long time with Lance, trying to process everything that the teen had said.

Lance was  _ right. _ Not about all of it, hell no. The conversation Lance had had with Keith needed to happen. The things that were said weren’t Lance’s fault.

And the way Lance sold himself so short. Did he really see himself so poorly? Was that the legacy of Shiro’s leadership thus far? Had he really let down Lance so much that the teen wasn’t even sure if he and Shiro were  _ friends? _

...Had Shiro ever even bothered to say so specifically?

Things were really messed up now, weren’t they?

Lance didn’t mention his theory to any of the others, Shiro realized. But why?

**_My Paladin’s idea proven science,_ ** Green reminded Shiro helpfully.  **_Paladin saw what happened._ **

_ Shit. _

Of  _ course  _ Lance wouldn’t risk another argument tonight. He’d probably wait until things had calmed down a bit.

At least, Shiro hoped he would. With the way Lance’s vent to Black went, Shiro wasn’t sure if Lance would believe in himself enough to risk rejection.

The very thought made Shiro nauseous.

“I’m so sorry, Lance,” Shiro whispered. “We’re going to fix this, though. You and me, buddy.”

Shiro found himself fervently hoping that the evening would end there; he would walk Lance back to the Red Paladin’s bedroom, make sure Lance fell asleep okay, and then return to Black to continue mulling things over after he checked back in with everyone else.

Like he said earlier: the Castle needed a quiet evening.

Of  _ course _ they wouldn’t get one. 

Almost immediately as Shiro thought the words “quiet evening”, the Castleship’s alarms blared to life.

They were under attack.

**_***_ **

**_Lance_ **

This…. This wasn’t good.

Lance had planned to go to back to his room, just call it a day, when the Castle was attacked.

No one was expecting it. And yeah, that was probably more on them than anything else, but  _ seriously?! _

Lance shot to his feet so fast his spin popped. In a blink, he was racing to get his armor and get Red out there. He didn’t know the status of his team and-

The castle rocked violently when a blast of  _ something _ shook it. Lance slid into a wall, growling as his shoulder took the brunt of his weight..

_ Ow. _

He needed to get out there now and give his team time to join him.

On a different note, Lance wasn’t sure he’d ever gotten ready as fast as he did then, so that was kind of cool. 

Red already had her ramp down when Lance skidded into her hanger. He hadn’t heard anything from the others.

“Guys, what’s going on?!” he called into his comms as Red blasted off.

_ “We don’t know!”  _ Allura answered.  _ “Whatever hit the ship blocked our systems; we’ve only just gotten them back online. I’m on my way to my armor now!” _

“Where’s everyone else?!”

_ “They’re on their way, Number Three!” _ Coran chirped worriedly.  _ “Where are you?” _

Lance grimaced; they weren’t going to like this. “I’m buying the others some time.”

_ “Do not engage, Lance! Not until you have backup!” _

“Then I guess you’ll have to be my backup, Coran,” Lance gulped. “It’s a  _ liiiittle  _ late for not engaging.”

Pirates. 

Pirates were attacking the Castle. 

A sea (Lance couldn’t even enjoy the pun because there was a literal  _ sea) _ of Pirate ships and pods were attacking the Castle.

Lance rolled his shoulders as he thrust Red forward toward the nearest ship. Even now he found himself marveling at her speed and agility. All he had to do was  _ think _ what he wanted and boom. It had happened.

It wasn’t what he was used to, and he wasn’t sure if he preferred it to the thrumming strength and control of Blue, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t thankful for his lady Red in situations like these.

_ No wonder you and Keith were so good at getting things done, _ Lance mused fondly.

_ “Lance you’d better not be doing anything stupid!” _

_ Aaaaand fondness gone.  _

Lance glared forward, pointedly ignoring Keith as he avoided blaster fire, twirling through the Pirate masses. Ships exploded left and right as Red’s jawblade and tail laser blasted through the crowded ranks. 

Lance was feeling pretty confident until one of the larger ships locked onto him.

_ “We’re here, Lance!”  _ Hunk cheered. Lance grunted in what he hoped was an answer that Hunk would accept.

_ “And not a moment too soon,“  _ Coran noted wearily.  _ “The Castle shields are taking far too heavy of fire.” _

Lance spun Red around, facing the ship. It was large and lime and green and in a weird way reminded Lance of a narwhal. He didn’t understand it. Red didn’t comment at all, so she must have been just as confused. 

The narwhal ship’s “horn” was a long cannon that seemed to fire a crystalline substance not unlike Blue’s ice in destructiveness. Lance gasped as it fired once again, Red just barely managing to dodge in time.

On the bright side, the Narwhal ship managed to hit another Pirate vessel instead of Red.

However, Lance was also finding that the Lions  _ really  _ needed seatbelts. 

Lance was thrown from his seat as Red barrel-rolled out of the way, the teen hitting the far wall head-on. It wasn’t serious, but he was  _ definitely _ going to bruise. 

“Ow,” he grumbled at his Lion, not really meaning it. He was just glad they hadn’t been hit.

_ “Lance!”  _ Pidge called.  _ “Where the hell are you?!” _

“Why?” Lance grinned, once again in his seat and dealing with the Narwhal and the other ships who seemed to have just realized that there was a lonesome Lion in their midst. “Miss me?”

Pidge laughed.  _ “As if,” _ she teased.  _ “I’m just making sure you’re okay.” _

“You know,” Lance admitted, “I wouldn’t mind a little assistance if anyone isn’t busy.”

_ “I’m on my way, man,”  _ Hunk replied instantly.

“What do these guys even want?!” Lance asked.

_ “They haven’t made contact yet. Though my guess would be they want the Castle,” _ Coran answered.

_ “Hunk watch your six!”  _ Keith yelled. Hunk shrieked in surprise.

“Hunk?!”

_ “They’re advancing on the Castle!” _ Allura reported.  _ “We need to take them all out now!” _

Lance grit his teeth with the telltale signs of his friends in a battle in his ears. “I’m on my way.”

_ “I’m sorry, Lance!”  _ Hunk cried.  _ “Please be careful.” _

“Psh. I’m always careful.”

Figures that  _ that _ would be the moment Lance got hit. He managed to bite his tongue when it happened, so hopefully none of the others heard. Besides, he was fine. A little battered, a little shaken, sure. But he was fine.

Thankfully, Red was fine too. However, he could feel the change in Red’s demeanor almost instantaneously. Usually Lance could feel her temper vibrating beneath his hands whenever they fought together. But right now?

She was  _ pissed. _

Lance grinned. “I think it’s about time for some payback, Red. How about you?”

Red’s wordless roar was answer enough. Both her cannons revved to life in a tick, and Lance jerked on the controls to pivot Red midair as she bestowed a deadly beam from her mouth and tail on the Pirates, the Narwhal ship included. 

“Yes, Red!” he cheered. “We got ‘em!” 

Explosions filled the space surrounding them. Lance had to shut his eyes to avoid being blinded. Immediately, Lance and Red were sitting in their own pocket of desolation amid the battle. The subsequent explosions from Red’s victims had set off other ships, only broadening their destruction. 

Blue zoomed by through the wreckage. 

_ “Lance!”  _ Allura called.  _ “Did you two do this?” _

“As a matter of fact, we did! How are things with the Castle?”

_ “Calming down, but we need you and Red.” _ A moment paused before Allura’s  _ “Well done, Lance.” _

No he was  _ not  _ blushing  _ shut up Red- _

Red only purred harder as she soared back towards the ship, jawblade once again out and slicing through any and all remaining ships she could hit. 

It was awesome.

_ “Lance!” _ Pidge quipped.  _ “Nice of you to join us!” _

“You’re just bitter I beat you getting out here,” Lance teased back.

_ “Focus, team,”  _ Keith interrupted.  _ “We need to take care of this.” _

_ “Keith’s right,”  _ Allura agreed.  _ “Let’s do this!” _

**_***_ **

**_Shiro_ **

The battle didn’t last long after that. 

Black (after ample pleading) let Shiro manifest in the pilot’s cabin once more with Keith while the skirmish continued.

In a weird way, Shiro was always vividly reminded of the team’s first ride in Blue whenever he rode with Keith.

Maybe it was because of how bumpy he found fighting to be. 

Apparently, Keith’s beratement towards himself hadn’t done anything other than make his temper shorter towards Lance. Shiro barely bit back an exasperated sigh when the Black Paladin snapped at Lance.

_ This isn’t helping things, is it? _

**_Almost done!_ ** Red called cheerily. 

“You’re in a good mood,” Shiro chuckled, stopping suddenly to catch himself on the back of Keith’s chair. One time of being thrown into the wall the first time he’d joined Keith was  _ plenty. _

**_My Paladin and Lion were… “Awesome”,_ ** Red boasted.

Shiro looked up, just barely able to make out the Red Lion zooming through the ranks of Space Pirates, explosions claiming every ship they passed.

“Yeah,” he grinned, “I’d say you two are.”

Lance and Red caught up with the rest of Voltron soon enough, and from there the rest of the fleet didn’t stand a chance. Shiro watched (and listened) proudly as his team celebrated their victory. Hunk promised to make hot cocoa when everyone made it back to the Castle, a promise Pidge and Coran jumped on immediately. Allura, though far more politely, also pledged to hold Hunk to his word.

Lance and Red appeared beside the Black Lion suddenly. A holoscreen opened in front of Keith, Lance’s face greeting both the pilot and unseen stowaway. 

_ “I’d say that went well,”  _ Lance mused. 

“Yeah,” Keith agreed. “You know you’re not supposed to go into a battle without backup!” he blurted. Shiro smacked his own forehead. 

_ “I bought us time! Besides, I had Coran with me.” _

“That doesn’t count as backup when you decide to fly into the thickest section of a fleet!” Keith snapped. 

Lance took his helmet off and rubbed the bridge of his nose with a sigh.  _ “Look; you’re right. Things could have gone very wrong. But is it too much to trust that I know how to gauge my own limits and abilities? I know what I’m capable of, and probably managed to save the entire Castle by giving the Pirates something to aim at besides it.” _

Keith sighed in a similar fashion. “Luck isn’t a strategy, Lance.” 

Lance glared.  _ “I dunno; it hasn’t failed us yet, so why look a gift horse in the mouth?” _

Keith rolled his eyes. “You need to be more careful Lance; no more pulling stunts like that.”

_ “Yeah, yeah,” _ Lance muttered.  _ “I would like the record to note that you, the stereotypical angsty and reckless Red Paladin, just told  _ me _ to be careful.”  _ Lance smirked pointedly as Keith fumbled for words to defend himself.  _ “Are you going to join us for cocoa?” _

“Eventually.”

_ “Alright…”  _ Lance trailed off.  _ “Don’t get lost,”  _ he teased, the video link shutting off a moment later. Keith huffed indignantly at the now empty space.

A moment later, the teen dropped his head into his hands.

“What am I  _ doing?” _

Shiro crossed his arms on the back of Keith’s chair, looking down at him expectantly.

“‘Great job out there, Lance!’ ‘I’m sorry I was an ass earlier, Lance!’ You’re basically the only person holding this team together, Lance!’ ‘Well done thinking quickly, Lance!’ ‘Lance I was wrong earlier when I called you useless.’ ‘Thank you, Lance!’” Keith threw his hands into the air, flopping back dejectedly. “How  _ fucking  _ hard would it have been, huh?! God, Keith! What are you  _ doing?!  _ You had one  _ fucking  _ job!”

“You ever think that maybe you’re just a  _ tad _ too hard on yourself?” Shiro mused. “I mean, you need to go apologize to him, you silly hippo enthusiast. You really messed up here. But I’m not sure that wallowing is the answer.”

Keith, meanwhile, crossed his arms across his eyes. “I’m a terrible leader. And a worse friend.”

“Then go fix it!” Shiro urged. 

After a moment, Keith straightened, a perplexed look on his face. “He seemed… awfully friendly just now, didn’t he?” Shiro knew that the question wasn’t directed towards him, but found it oddly satisfying to nod in agreement. Black also seemed to enjoy the rhetorical as she rumbled her consensus as well.

“Like, scary friendly. He wasn’t even angry with me. There’s no way he’s forgiven me,” Keith asserted. “Lance is the forgiving type, yeah. But not for things like that. He’s never forgiven insults that quickly unless they’re from a very tired Pidge.”

“Think about it,” Shiro urged. “Come on, Keith.”

“He barely fought me on the recklessness thing. He threw himself into danger without even trying to wait for us…” Keith trailed off, clearly deep in thought.

“Almost there, Keith. You’re so close. It’s  _ Lance. _ What do you know about him?”

“He didn’t forgive me,” Keith breathed. “He  _ agreed  _ with me. He’s trying to prove that he’s useful! Because I had to go and run my stupid mouth just because I was angry and… and scared.... Just like Lance said...”

Keith lowered his hands into his lap, breathing fast.

Shiro just bobbed his head up and down, suddenly out of encouragements and prompts.

After an awkward beat, Keith’s eyes lit up with anger for the third (fourth? Eleventh? Who knew!) time that day as he slammed his hands against the nearest horizontal surface. 

_ “SON OF A BITCH!” _ he roared. Shiro actually jumped a bit, having been lost in thought. 

_ Embarrassing. Black, you saw nothing. _

**_Sure._ **

“I have to fix this,” Keith whispered. “He can’t take what I said seriously -- he literally got all of us to function as a team again! He- he fixed my  _ fucking _ door! And, when- when I said those things… all he said was ‘I’m not going to bother arguing with you.’ I have to- I have to make this right.”

“Looks like we’re back on schedule, Black,” Shiro noted. “I don’t suppose you’re suddenly in a sharing mood, hm?”

**_Brace, Paladin. Soon._ **

“How soon is so-  _ whatthehellBlack?!” _

Out of seemingly  _ nowhere, _ Black froze in her place in front of the Castleship and  _ roared _ loud enough to shake the entire cabin. Keith perked to attention, checking all nearby displays. 

“What’s the matter?” Keith asked, leaning forward. Shiro followed suit. There was a blinking dot on one of the grid displays, dead ahead.

Keith made a small noise that sounded like a weird mix between surprise and relief. “We found him.”

Shiro thought for a moment. 

“Who’s ‘him’? Who did we find?!”

**_Look, Paladin._ **

Shiro leaned as far forward as possible to see outside of Black. 

“What-” Shiro sucked in a breath. 

It was the Galran fighter jet. The one from the memories. The one with… with Memory-Shiro.

Memory-Shiro was… real?! Had everything actually happened?!

“Black, what the hell is going on?!” Shiro exclaimed.

Black, oddly enough, almost seemed to shudder. The other Lions were anxious and on edge too, Shiro realized.

It was Blue who broke the silence.

  
_**He is here.**_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE MOMENT YOU’VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR.
> 
> I’m so sorry about the wait-- writing fights always makes me sad and after writing two my motivation went “buh-bye”.
> 
> I’m also fairly certain that my writing style changed at least five times but I don’t have the mental prowess to try rewriting it, so I’m really sorry about that.
> 
> Wow so a lot happened in this chapter. I really planned it to be a filler chapter and then realizations occurred and I was like “what if things actually happened instead?” 
> 
> Remember when I told you guys that I had a reason for Black’s actions? And that it would make sense for her to lock Shiro in the Astral plane for this very reasonable reason that I most definitely had?
> 
> Yeah I had no idea what I was going to do. I started this story and went “bah. I’ll figure it out later” and had some bs “maybe she can’t figure out how to get him home” excuse that I’d pepper in later. 
> 
> And then I was writing Lance at like one in the morning and just?? Like that actually makes sense??? I had him psychoanalyze a Lion and somehow fixed my plot??? 
> 
> I’m genuinely shocked. Props to 1am Me.
> 
> Also I’ve been reassessing my plot whatnot, and realized how much wasted potential we had with the Shiro-Lance connection? Like I just really forgot it was there for several plot points? Whoops?
> 
> I tried to fix that here. Did it work? Who’s to say. 
> 
> Sorry this took so long- I wanted to get this out before the holidays but life happened and I’m STILL trying to catch up on Christmas gifts. I’ve taken to writing late at night (early morning) every night to keep this going, so I’ve been working consistently, just not quickly. (sleep is a social construct and I refuse to bend to her will mwhahahaha)
> 
> Oh- and to whomever ( Wishflare! Hi!) asked about the Shiro ghost thing- I really considered making him, like, a poltergeist, but he’s not going to be able to interact with any objects or computers on the Castleship (or at least in any way that would reach Voltron). At the moment, his only link is Lance, so we get to indulge in that lovely “on the outside, always looking in” angst that fuels my cold dead heart (whoo!).
> 
> I have the final dialogues and epilogue already planned and I’m so excited to see how we get there. I promise it’ll end okay on all sides:)
> 
> We’re not going to discuss my inability to stick with one story (*pointedly ignores other two stories currently in progress and literal doc of future plans*)
> 
> OKAY QUICK QUESTION: Do you guys like the stupid long chapter updates out of the blue, or do you want me to go back to my shorter chapters to get things moving quicker?
> 
> Remember that you are loved and cherished and that you matter<3
> 
> Also: a special message from my cat:
> 
> , µµµµµµµµµµµµµµµµµµµµ mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm[[[[‘0ppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppppyuh5555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555555522222222222222222222222222222222222222222222w
> 
> (he’s started sitting on my computer when I’m trying to work and I ??? Sir???)
> 
> (Honestly though it’s hilarious because he’ll feel the keys moving beneath him and get offended so he’ll just sit there and yell at the chromebook while he tries to comprehend what’s going on)
> 
> Stay safe, guys! Peasant out:)


	12. IMPORTANTE INFORMACIÓN (isn’t Spanish cool?!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ  
> PLEEEEAAAAASSE

Sooooo… last chapter got pretty bad. You can decide if I’m talking about the writing itself or the content :P

But we need to clear a few things up before my story progresses both so that you guys can follow me better, and so I can better figure out this AU. 

I’m changing canon here. Because I’m making it where Shiro never died, and has his actual body (aha no clone body relocation shenanigans in this house), Kuron is going to be different. 

I googled for a ridiculously long time and could not find a single person to tell me where Shiro’s body went at the end of season 2. No one knows. SO. Here is what we’re going to say happened in the original Netflix VLD storyline:

Shiro’s “body” was taken by the Galra during the fight. How? Idk we’ll blame Haggar. Because they had the real Shiro, the Galrans were able to create a nearly identical clone to fool the Paladins. 

Cool? Cool. Now here’s where my AU comes in.

What would happen if the Galrans didn’t get Shiro’s body? They’d have to run with what they know from Champion for temperament and personality. So, Kuron isn’t going to be nearly as subtle here because the Galrans have no idea of Shiro’s true mannerisms. All they’ve observed is the bloodlust and battle skills Shiro displayed when he placed himself in the Arena instead of Matt. So Kuron is going to be more aggressive in this story and much more reckless with his and his team’s lives. I’m going to stay with most of the big canon stuff (BOM, Keith leaving, etc.), but the whole Lotor thing likely won’t be nearly as important as it was in the show because Kuron is going to become a huge player on the antagonist side of things, and we’ll mostly be focusing on Lance and the real Shiro trying to figure out what’s going on. I’m still debating how clued in the team will be- let me know what you guys want!

Ask me your questions in the comments! It’d really be helpful to sort this mess and make sure I’ve not lost anyone!

  
  


I’ll see you all next chapter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok goodbye have fun!!! Send me questions!!!


End file.
